


The Sound of Silence

by speakingofalice



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Fluff and Angst, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-02 18:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4070125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speakingofalice/pseuds/speakingofalice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the world ended it did so not with a bang, but a fever. The Sickness spread faster than a cure could be made killing those not immune from coast to coast in a matter of months. Now it is not about living. It's about surviving. </p><p>"The rules are simple. Don't be stupid. Don't get bit. Stay away from anyone who is already sick and for the love of God Jim, don't try to be a hero." The man named Leonard looked at Jim with a raised eyebrow. Jim scoffed. </p><p>"Please, Bones. I'm not the hero type."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sickness

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song The Sounds of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel I would suggest listening to it, the live version on youtube from the 25th anniversary Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Concert. It's just this side of spooky and perfect for a zombie fic, I think.

It was dark outside, silent. No cars rumbled past or buses chugged along. The streetlights must've taken the night off because they weren't even alight on the other side of Jim's window to annoy him like they usually did. Jim turned over in his small bed once, snuggled his head into the pillow, realized he couldn't breathe then turned back around to the other side where he'd started. Everything was quiet. Too quiet. But it must've been one or two in the morning by this point so he didn't question it.

He should have, but he didn't.

Jim opened his eyes when sleep didn't offer its warm embrace and stared at the ceiling. He could have sworn he'd turned his ceiling fan on last night before stumbling into bed. Now however, it stood still - unwavering, unmoving - but Jim couldn't find it in himself to care, to question. Maybe he was crazy and hadn't turned the fan on last night. Either way he just stared wanting nothing more than to fall asleep. He lay there for an hour longer before the silence was just too much. Something wasn't right.

Something was wrong.

Maybe he was just hungry. His pain medication made him hungry.

With a sigh of defeat, Jim swung his sheet - it had been too hot for the comforter - back then maneuvered his one good leg and one bad leg into a sitting position. Hugging and cursing his broken ankle he grabbed for his crutches that were conveniently placed beside his bed leaning against the wall. He ignored the digital clock that blinked out a time and his cell phone as he heaved himself off the bed grunting and groaning trying his damnedest not to put any weight on his bad leg.

_"Six weeks, no weight baring post surgery. Sorry Jim, looks like you'll have to take some time off work."_

The doctor had been kind, if not a little tired and just this side of cute. But, the wedding ring that shined around his third finger dashed any plans Jim had had about asking to play doctor with the man later. All was well however since the man's brown eyes and blonde hair reminded him too much of Sam's and Jim was not about to make a move on a guy who reminded him of his brother because no. Just no.

But  _damn_  did he have a thing for doctors. The white lab coat. The brooding atmosphere of knowing too much about the human body and its workings. The over tired protectiveness of their patients and, last but certainly not least, the three day stubble that blanketed their chins. Sexy.

The air was cool as Jim slowly crutched one foot at a time out his bedroom.

Put one foot in front of the other.

Or two crutches front of one foot, as his case may be.

He would turn the light on the brighten the otherwise dark room but those switches were all the way across the room. Too much work. So he trudged on in darkness until he reached the lip of the stairs. Swiftly, because he'd been doing this by himself for two weeks already, he threw his one crutch down the steps and cringed as it clanked loudly against the carpeted floor and side of the steps. He then leaned into the raining, took the other crutch down a step and hopped down. He did it once more, then twice until sinking to the step and throwing his remaining crutch at its twin. It hit the side of the wall, Jim hoped he wouldn't have a dent in the morning.

Something still felt off.

Maybe he was still hungry.

Maybe it was his pain medication making him paranoid.

Maybe he just really wanted the rest of that left over hamburger he knew was in his refrigerator.

And so Jim slid his butt down the steps silently - or not so silently since he lived alone in his house - berating himself for not turning on any lights. By the time he reached the ground where his two crutches lay the cool feeling that he had felt evaporated as sweat glistened on his forehead. He had only recently broken his ankle making every movement harsh and more effort was expelled than he was used to. Jim grabbed his crutches and leaned until he was upright then began his journey to the kitchen.

The house was not big, not small but it was his. Bought using money from his job and parts of his inheritance from his dead father. It was only a few blocks from the small college he used to go to before people had started to get sick and attendance had dropped so much that they had to close it down.

People had been getting sick for a while. Fevers, chills, throwing up into trash cans on the street as Jim walked past them with his nose in his shirt while looking away discreetly because ew. He didn't even like Peter, Sam's son, throwing up on him and he loved the little guy. After his school had closed down Jim had focused solely on his work with nothing better to do. He liked fixing cars and tinkering inside engines. So what if he couldn't get the degree in engineering like he'd always wanted - this was the next best thing. Right?

Jim had dedicated his time to working his life away - which wasn't too hard - until some of his coworkers started to get sick. When Jim had stumbled upon Arty passed out in the bathroom he knew something was defiantly wrong. It wasn't just a stomach flu going around the streets of San Fran as the newscasters had said, people were really getting sick.

But then Jim, in a show of true and utter Kirk luck, had shattered his ankle.

Falling down the steps.

In his own home.

Stone cold sober.

And he'd just laughed at himself already feeling his body go into shock. He'd called the paramedics to come help him but after twenty minutes of waiting he just said  _Fuck it_  and picked himself off the ground high enough to crawl. He didn't have anyone else he wanted to call. Sam was on vacation in Europe for the month relishing in his high end job that let him travel the world with his family. He wouldn't call his mother to help him because no. Just… no. Other than that he didn't really have anyone he was close enough to come help him. Jim Kirk loved people but he was a loner at heart keeping track of only himself. He was an extrovert when he felt like it but an introvert the six other days of the week. So, with no other option, he crawled out to his car and he drove himself to the hospital.

Jim had been surprised to see all of the people sitting in the waiting room as he checked himself in.

"If you're sick go sit with the others," the lady -  _Barbara_ , her name tag had a flower sticker peeling off it - said without looking up from her papers. Jim had cocked his head to the side angry and in pain and way too embarrassed to be sitting in a wheelchair since he couldn't walk.

"I'm not sick I broke my goddamn ankle now can I please get some help here?"

She had looked up at him surprised at his tone and leaned over to see his mangled foot.

"Right this way," she pointed to which Jim followed.

They took X-rays, twisted, prodded, touched and gave him a cast telling him to stay off his foot and come back in a few weeks. The sexy doctor told him about possible surgery but Jim had waved him off with an o _h, no, I wont need that_ , because he hated hospitals enough as it was and he was not about to lay down so they could cut open his ankle. No sir, not for him.

When he had crutched out of the hospital to his car - no he didn't need a nurse to push him in a wheelchair he was a grown ass man, damnit - Jim looked at all the sick people coughing into tissues or hands. Their skin all looked grey with dull hair. Jim wasn't sure if a cure had been found yet but he hoped it would be soon. He might've been an asshole but he still cared…

By the time Jim finally made it to the fridge he felt clammy and out of breath. He had bypassed the light switch to the kitchen too preoccupied with his thoughts so darkness still reigned in his household. He balanced on one foot letting the other one rest on the ground careful not to place any weight on to it then leaned his crutch against the counter. With a jump-hop he was at the refrigerator with his hand on the cool plastic. Like he had done a thousand times before, Jim opened the door feeling the cold brush of air against his bare chest and face. But something was wrong. Instead of there being a hallelujah gospel inspired ark of light shining like God's own smile from the fridge, there was nothing. More darkness and shadows where his food was kept.

Oddly enough, that was how Jim Kirk, college drop out and one footed wonder kid, figured out the world had essentially ended.

Tbc…


	2. The House

Leonard McCoy gently slid his knife back into its sheath without a glance and less than half a thought. It was easy now. Normal. Scalpels and surgical knives used to be the norm but now it was long daggers and guns that he held in his hands more often than not.

"House is clear!" a man in another room yelled. It sounded like Scotty if the accent could tell him anything. Leonard opened the door in front of him searching for anything – food, clothes, batteries, water, anything to help them survive in a world that was dead set on killing them.

The house they were currently scavenging from was just another in a long row of homes long abandoned. Much of the current neighborhood lay desolate and while the majority weren't in disrepair they all gave off an aura of uninhabitable. It looked like the people in this neighborhood – like most neighborhoods – had just picked up and left after hearing the promises of safe zones and clean areas outside the cities or far out in the country side. And everyone had just up and left. Doors still standing open, windows with shutters half closed, children's play toys still strewn over the yard, clothes splayed anywhere and everywhere. It's amazing what people forget when they're running for safely away from the Sickness.

The Sickness wasn't something that started quick and attacked fast. It was slow, creeping and crawling along with first a cough then chills and a fever. Then skin turned an ashen color and blood was thrown up. By that point it was too late, after came the Dead Eyes, as Sulu had so graciously put it. It was the look of absolute blankness that clouded the eyes. It was a black rotting color that started in the pupils then somehow impossibly spilled into the irises and then out into the whites of their eyes. After that happened it was only days, sometimes hours before the person either keeled over and died or turned into... Well, Leonardo shivered at the thought, they turned into something less than pleasant.

"McCoy!" Someone yelled from another room and Leonard was off walking towards the voice hiking his backpack over his shoulder now slightly weighed down with a few cans and little else. When he entered into what looked like it had once been a bedroom for a child he stopped, eyes wide and mouth dropping open. Something, a small something. Like a child. Like a baby. Lay in the bed. Still. Lifeless. Leonard wanted to throw up. He looked over to Uhura, her long brown hair pulled back into a tight pony tail and hands on her mouth. Her eyes shown with unshed tears even though she had seen worse in the two months since they'd met after the breakout of the Sickness had reached national proportions.

Leonard stuck his hand out to grab for the woman. "Come on, Uhura. Let's get out of this shithole." Suddenly it didn't matter if this house had food in it, they needed to get out of here. They needed supplies for camp but not this badly. Leonard wanted to throw up desperately.

Together the two made their way out of the room closing the door behind them with a click. Uhura reached into her backpack, grabbed the black spray paint can in hand and shook it before disappearing out the way they had come into the house that Leonard could bet used to be a nice one back in the day. Swiftly he walked into the kitchen getting Scotty and Spock's attention and telling them they needed to leave. Neither argued as they saw the look in Leonard's eye. Grabbing anything that even looked useful and stuffing it all in their backpacks the three collected any stragglers and walked out of the house. Uhura stood just out the door, spray paint ready and when the door was firmly shut she shook the can again before stepping forward. She wrote two words and stepped back, turned around and stuffed the can back inside her pack. The white door now dripped with black paint as the party of people searching for supplies started walking away.

_Dead Inside._

The next house made Sulu, the front of the pack of people, stop. The house looked different from the rest and he said as much to Spock. "Look at the windows and doors," he pointed. Everything was shut tight. Door closed and what looked like boards stacked against the inside of the windows. It was strange. Why board up the  _inside_  of the windows?

"It might be another survivor," suggested the youngest in the group, Chekov. Leonard crossed his arms, "Or it might be a bunch of Dead One's in there someone trapped."

The Dead One's only come out at night or when it rained and when they did they were silent and limping or running and screaming. Two types. Both dangerous. Both hungry. By this point those who weren't immune to the sickness were either dead or dying and so the survivors didn't have to worry about getting sick, they only had to worry about dying. Being bitten or scratched meant you were dead even if you were immune to the airborne sickness. Leonard found that out with Jocelyn.

Jocelyn wasn't immune. She died when they ran from their home in Georgia.

Joanna hadn't been immune.

It must have been some sick cosmic joke that Leonard wasn't affected by the sickness. Leonard refused to think any more of it.

Every survivor now, and there were admittedly not many, tried to survive in this new world. Find food, find shelter, find a group of friends that won't kill you for your food or your shelter. It wasn't living, it was surviving.

 

Not something that brought a lot of hope.

"Maybe we should leave it 'lone," Scotty scowled up at the lone house that truly looked to be in better condition than all the rest.

Uhura came up beside Spock looking at the house. "We need supplies. We haven't gotten enough to take back to camp."

Always the rational mind, Leonard reasoned.

"If nothing else ve need to get inside somewhere before it starts to rain." Chekov looked up at the sky eyeing the dark clouds rolling and shifting as they moved, his accent thickening with worry.

The Dead One's always came out when it rained. Always. They loved the rain. Leonard could only make assumptions of why the dead liked the rain but nothing he had was concrete.

Spock nodded his head and startled walking forward with Sulu a step behind and Leonard a few paces back. The walked over the overgrown grass and through the garden that Leonard could tell somebody used to take pride in but now it was nothing but an over grown, weed ridden mess. They made it to the door, weapons drawn. Sulu went for the handle like he'd done it a thousand time, which he had. The knob doesn't budge and neither does the door. It stays tights not even jiggling on it's hinges. Sulu turns back to the others.

"I really think we should leave this one alone."

"Bullshit," Adam Hendorff comes forward. "We need supplies." Is all he says before bringing a foot up to slam it into the door. Spock shoots forward before the man can explode the door grabbing his foot and holding on tight.

"What?" Hendorff huffs trying to jerk his appendage out of the pale man's grip.

"If it does indeed start to rain we will need some place safe and secure to house ourselves until the Dead One's leave."

Adam rolls his eyes but understands. He backs off the door to the side crossing his arms. Chekov comes forward without a word. He reaches into his back pocket for his lock picking kit then gets down on one knee. He takes out his tools and brings them to the lock of the door knob with trained fingers. He has the two long metal tools inside the lock working when he curses in Russian once, then twice. The boy licks his bottom lip scooting himself closer to the lock until his nose is only an inch from the offensive thing.

"Come on you," he whispers more to himself than to the people standing around him.

"Is there a problem?" Spock inquires, he's never seen the young man take this much time picking a lock. Spock thinks on how the boy could have been a child genius before the Sickness overcame humanity. He was at a science conference near the Bay when the order for evacuation rang from all over. That was where Spock had met Chekov. The young Russian had been scared and alone and Spock, after a heated argument with Nyota, had agreed to let the boy come with them as they traveled to the safe zones. Chekov, because he insisted that only his mother called him Pavel, had said little on the trip but he didn't have to, Spock wasn't much of a talker and Nyota was too distracted with her own thoughts. They had made it just as far at their current camp before they met up with more survivors trying to get out but having little supplies and no means of transportation other than their own two feet. Everyone had different skills with more interesting back stories and they fell into place with each other. Built the camp. Built a new temporary life.

Everything is different now. Backgrounds didn't matter anymore. The world ended and it's up to them to survive or die on their own.

Chekov works a few minutes longer, just enough time for it to make Leonard almost call off the endeavor entirely. But then he hears a click and another and another and the boy is moving the handle to open the door. There's a crack and a groan as the thing that had the door locked and bolted shut falls away onto the ground.

"Someone does not vant people in," is all Chekov says before he stands back, this part of his job finished. Sweat sticks to his brow, Leonard had never seen the boy struggle so with anything let alone a normal house lock. Leonard looks to Spock who looks back and together they walk into the house.

It is strange, Leonard thinks to himself crossing the threshold, the house looked clean and organized. No sign of a hurried escape or the toss and tumble of things from scavengers. There was even a mug sitting next to a children's toy on the coffee table in front of a well-used couch. No dust litters what should have been an abandoned house, everything is clean. Leonard is tempted to ask how long ago the evacuation order for this area was given but he already knows and he also knows that it was a long enough time ago that dust should have started to settle on the surfaces of the home. There is none, however. Everything is just so damn  _clean_. He looks back at the door to see a large metal contraption half over the inside handle, half on the ground. Something to keep people out for sure.

Suddenly something shifts and just about blinds Leonard. Lights shine above him making him gasp and put a hand over his sensitive eyes. When nothing more happens he takes his hand away in astonishment. There, shining above him and all around what seems to be someone's living room were lights. Real honest to god  _lights_.

"Wow..." Uhura breaths behind him as she looks over all of the lights brightening the otherwise shadowed home. The lights take on a warm color that makes Leonard think of his old home before he snaps himself away from his traitorous thoughts. It isn't that they have no electricity – that still works somewhat in their camp. It is just that they have not seen lights this bright in so long. San Francisco was one of the last places to get hit with the Sickness so for the people living here it must've only been a few months since the evacuation but for everyone else it's been longer. Georgia was hit six months ago. Ohio, seven and New York nine. Slowly the sickness inched across the states as people fled to safe zones and brought the sick with them.

"I think," Sulu begins looking around the little house. Leonard would have almost called it a cozy little home. "I think someone is living here."

"Hello!" calls Scotty loudly making the people in the back jump. "Anyone 'ere!? We're not gonna hurt ye!" Spock looks to Scotty when he's done yelling with a scowl.

"Search the house for anyone. Don't take anything. It might just be some poor bastard trying not to die here." Leonard instructed to which Spock inclined his head in agreement. The party fanned out some venturing to the area Leonard assumed was the kitchen while others opened doors trying to find the basement. Leonard motioned to Spock then pointed up the steps. Uhura saddled up behind them and nodded quietly saying she would go with them. The three climbed the steps of the admittedly small but functioning house. The carpet on the steps was a nice clean white color that Leonard hadn't seen in a while. There were cracks and nicks along the side of the steps in the paint that made Leonard question the origin of. When they reached the top Spock and Leonard went to the right towards what looked to be a main bedroom while Uhura went left where there were a few closed doors.

Leonard went first into the room. The bed was messy with pillows and the comforter more on the ground than bed. There were head divots in the two pillows that lay side by side making Leonard wonder if there were two people here and not just one.

He pauses when he hears something small, a whimper. It sounds like a child and Leonard remembers there being a child's toy on the table downstairs. He hopes to God there isn't a sick child in this house. He couldn't go through that again. Not after seeing the baby in the other house, he can see Joanna clearly in his mind. Her pasty skin and black eyes that used to swell with creamy brown–

 _Stop_! He tells himself forcing him to focus on the here and the now.

"Hello!" He says loudly mimicking Scotty. "We don't want to hurt you." He says thinking that if there was a child in the room it was probably scared out of its mind. And damned smart if he or she put together that locking mechanism.

There's another sound, more like someone crying and another gently shushing them. It's faint and if Leonard wasn't intently looking for something it would have gone unnoticed. Spock hears it to. It seems he knows where it's coming from for he turns towards the left side of the room where there is no door but more carpet leading back to the bathroom. Spock signals for him to follow and Leonard does quietly picking up his feet. They slowly make their way to the bathroom trying to muffle their footsteps. They follow the carpet, it's nice and smooth and too white after Leonard had only seen dirt and grime for so long. When they get to a closed door Leonard draws his long knife while Spock holds his gun up closer to his face. The both get close to a door and listen to hear anything.

Sure enough they hear another sound, a shuffle of clothing. It's small, so very, very faint that Leonard almost thinks he never heard anything in the first place. But then Spock nods his head. He heard it to. By some unspoken agreement Spock backs up a few feet and Leonard gets the hell out of the way. There seems to be a silent countdown from three to one and Spock runs at the door slamming his shoulder into it. Someone screams. Sobs. It's a shrill sound before it's muffled.

"Shh, shh, Kevin. It's okay buddy." Is whispered by a disembodied voice inside the pitch black bathroom. Leonardo comes forward into the room while Spock grabs for the light switch and turns it on.

The sight makes Leonard take a step back and throw his hands in his air, knife almost slicing Spock in the process. It's a man with longer than normal blond hair and a handsome but sweaty face. He is skinny. Very skinny as his cheek bones protrude out from his face unnaturally. The man's leg is bent at an awkward angle and Leonard, always the doctor, sees that he has a black hard cast wrapped around his foot disappearing into his jeans. Leonard then notices the man has an arm and practically his entire body wrapped around a small child, a boy, protectively. The boy is crying into the man's shirt. The child looks no older than six or seven but both people look so small inside the bathtub huddled close. It is then he notices what is in the man's other hand. It's shiny and black. A gun.

"Come any closer and I'll shoot the fuck out of you."


	3. The Intruder

Jim wasn't all that surprised someone had managed to break into his house. In all honesty, he'd been waiting for it – seeing how long it took for a group of people desperate enough to pick the lock he had engineered over the knob and handle of his front door. They could have gotten in through the back door, if Jim was being candid. That door was boarded up from the inside just like all the windows on the first and second story. But someone dedicated could have kicked it down. 

What did surprise Jim however, was that he hadn't heard them coming. Maybe he had become lax after a month of complete silence from the outside world after so much noise. Maybe he had forgotten that true danger lurked outside his safe haven. Or maybe Kevin had been too loud as he sat in his lap playing with his little toy whilst Jim drank hot tea from his favorite mug. Whatever the reason Jim's trained ears didn't pick up the sound of the party outside his fortress before it was too late. Scratches and the telltale signs of someone expertly picking at his specially designed lock sounded through the home making Jim jump to his one good foot. He grabbed hold of the little boy roughly until a wave of dizziness made his vision blurry and he had to set the child down on the couch as lightly as he could. The child, Kevin, looked up at him with wide brown eyes before scrambling off the couch and over to the staircase waiting for Jim. Just like he was taught to do. Just like Jim had taught him to do. The little boy stayed silent and dry eyed, a testament to how many times Jim had assured him he would keep him safe as long as they stuck together.

Without a word and holding back any grunts of pain Jim limped heavily on his bad ankle over to the boy, took his hand and together the two made their way up the steps with Jim's hand clamped securely onto the child's small soft hand. It took longer than it should to get to ascend the stairs, Jim had awoken this morning feeling off. An odd throbbing had started coming from his ankle in the last week that Jim wasn't used to. A cool sweat broke across his forehead as he moved through his home with the child.

When they made it to Jim's bedroom bypassing Kevin's room – or the spare room Jim had set up to be the little boys' private room that the kid never actually slept in since he spent all his time with Jim – he whisked them into his room closing the door just as he heard a loud click from the first level. That was it then. The person picking his lock had cracked it.

They were coming inside.

 _Well_   _fuck_.

"Bathroom." He whispered knowing the little boy could hear him. Kevin disappeared into the bathroom while Jim limped to his dresser. Reaching in, he pulled out his gun and stuffed it into the back of his jeans like he'd seen old Cowboys do in the movies. The gun was cold and balky making him shiver as the metal touched his skin. He was no sissy but he also wasn't a gun totter either. He preferred fists. The last person who had tried to break into his home had felt his fists and stayed away, but... Jim shuttered, maybe this was them back for another round. He didn't know why the thought hadn't hit him straight away that he should've stayed down stairs and fought but it hadn't and now he felt sick to his stomach. And lightheaded. His heart beat fast, he could hear it in his ears. Yet, Jim was not all that scared. He didn't know why his body suddenly felt so heavy but it was not from fear.

Quickly, he took a step away from the dresser and towards the bathroom where Kevin waited. He only took one step but he felt a wave of nausea wash through his body. He stumbled, caught himself grabbing for the dresser and bit his cheek swallowing the bile that breached his throat. He grit his teeth and limped to the bathroom. Not the time. Not the time.

When he entered Kevin, his small body in a tight ball, was already in the tub waiting on Jim as he shut off the lights and slowly, slowly,  _quietly_  closed then locked the door. He made his way over to the child climbing into the tub taking the gun out from behind his back and placing it on the shelf of the tub then collected the child in his arms. Kevin wrapped his small bony arms around Jim like a monkey scared he'd be forgetten by his family.

Which he had been forgotten by his family, but Jim wasn't about to think about that right now.

"I'm scared," the little boy cried softly into Jim's shirt. His brown hair was just this side of greasy, Jim had been planning on helping him wash tonight then using the water to wash his own dirty body as well. Their water supply was dwindling quickly.

"Shh," he soothed running his hand over Kevin's back and holding him tighter. The kid had been good at staying solid for the last few minutes but he was only a child and if Jim was being honest with himself a small part of him also wanted to hide and cry."It's gonna be fine, Kev. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you."

There was a crash from downstairs. Voices. Jim picked up the gun in his free right hand clutching it tight. The coolness of the white bathtub beneath him made the fogginess in his brain clear just a little and for that he was grateful.

Sounds carried up from the vents. It sounded like someone talking, a voice that was deep and husky answered then a voice that was higher, a woman, spoke next. This was really it then, there were really people in his house. Jim grit his teeth, he knew this day would come. He knew someday someone would break in whether it be someone sick or a group of survivors. Jim feared for not himself but the small bundle he held in his arms. Deftly he clutched the gun tighter. He would be damned if he didn't go down without a fight.

Creeks, cracks, they were walking up the stairs. They were slow going if the sound of their voices speaking loudly in the otherwise silent second story were anything to go by. The creak of a door opening startled Kevin, he cried again and Jim shushed him out of habit. He could feel his heat beating in his chest. He forced his breathing to slow and even out. He'd be useless if he passed out from hyperventilating. And that be embarrassing keeling over because he was stupid. It was hot in the small cramped bathroom, or maybe Jim was just sweating. Kevin felt almost cool against him.

"Hello?" Someone with a deep voice called making the child jump even harder, Jim grabed hold of his striped shirt clenching his teeth. "We don't want to hurt you."

Bullshit.

Whatever the hell was going on out in the world there was no one who just wanted to make nice, Jim thought bitterly.

They were walking now, Jim could hear the shuffle of his carpet.

Closer. Closer. Closer. Jim could hear multiple sets of footsteps walking. Jim doesn't blink in the pitch darkness of his bathroom while he and the boy who wondered to his door over a month ago cower in the bathtub like it's their bunker.

Suddenly there's a crash, light rips into the small room, a child screams, and Jim holds him closer raising his gun at the two men who stand at the door. Jim brings up his gun, finger on the trigger. They're both tall, one with brown hair and the other black. They're dirty in the way all the people Jim sees outside his window are covered in dirt and mud and bruises. They have backpacks hanging from their shoulders that bulge with things and jackets that are light but effective looking. Both hold weapons in their hands. A gun and a knife, Jim readies himself for a fight. He'll not go down easy.

"Come any closer and I'll shoot the fuck out of you," he says silently congratulating himself on his steady voice. The man with brown hair that is only slightly shorter than the straight black haired man puts his hands up in surrender. A long knife reflects off the shadowed light from the hallway. The man looks over to black haired man and nods at him to lower his weapon.

"Spock." Brown Hair says. He has a deep voice, must've been the one Jim heard earlier. Black Hair –  _Spock_? – slowly puts his gun on the ground not taking his eyes off Jim.

Trying to channel the scowl and piercing gaze he'd once had perfected haggling customers at the auto shop who wanted more work done for less money, Jim barked. "Come any closer and you fuckers are dead."

"We do not wish to harm you," says Spock very properly and Kevin whimpers into Jim's ear where his head is pressed to his neck.

"Shut up, bowl cut," he snaps at the man with his strange haircut. He doesn't lower his gun. "Then why the hell did you break into my house." It's more of a demand for them to answer than a question.

"We're survivors," Brown Haired man implores with his hands out as if he was trying to pacify Jim and the scared little boy in his arms. Jim is struck by the accent coloring his words. Southern. Like honey. "We came looking for supplies. Everyone else in this neighborhood high-tailed it outta here months ago. We assumed all these houses were abandoned."

"Well they're not." Jim growled keeping up the facade that he was the man in charge. In his hand the gun wavered slightly as a wave of dizziness washed through him. Damn, he felt like shit. "How do I know you guys aren't sick?"

"Do we look like we're fucking sick–" Brown Hair started but Spock cut him off.

"I can assure you neither ourselves nor anyone in our group has contracted the illness that affected so many. We are all immune."

 _Immune_. The word echoed inside Jim's ear reverberating around his skull and down his chest. For a second he let the gun falter slightly as he could feel his eyes widen. He hadn't know people could be immune to the Sickness. He didn't know that much, in fact. He'd been stuck in this house. It had been fine until the cable went out and he couldn't watch the news anymore.

First to go was the electricity, Jim found that out when he opened his refrigerator door and no light shined. After that he'd tried the light switch. No dice. Everything was dark. He tried the phone lines next. Nothing. No outgoing, no incoming. Nothing. So Jim had sat in his room telling himself to  _calm the fuck down, Kirk_  because freaking out was not going to solve anything damnit! When he'd collected himself he'd scooted and crutched down to the basement with an orange plastic flashlight in hand and jumped into the wires and trying to mix and match to get anything back. Any power. Any electricity.  _Anything_. It took hours, days maybe, Jim wasn't sure but he did it.

God Bless that engineering degree he never got.

God Bless his parents working for NASA and having every day be  _take your kid to work_ day or  _smuggle your kid to work_   _and put him in a corner with some circuits to play with since his mother was too cheap to get a sitter_  day.

Then the lights had flipped back on in a flash of glory that Jim was way too proud of.

By the time Jim had crawled his way up the steps relishing in his put-together-with-duck-tape-and-prayers generator powering electricity to his house he was tired. He left his crutches by the steps and continued to crawl to the living room. There he switched on the TV and cringed at the massive alert that sounded on all channels.

"... _Evacuate. This is an announcement from the National Center for Disease Control. There has been an outbreak of a virus yet unnamed causing severe reactions leading to violence and death. Please Evacuate. Please go to the nearest Safe Zone immediately–"_

Jim flipped the channel.

The newscaster speaking was pale and sweating. " _If you are hearing this broadcast we are urging you to find a safe place. This sickness... This virus is causing people to act violently and unpredictable. It is almost like they're turning into, and I can't believe I'm saying this. Turning into zomb_ –"

Jim turned the channel again. This time it was a black screen with white words flashing across.

"EVACUATE."

He stared at the screen for the longest time then switched off the television all together. He looked down at his broken ankle then over at his crutches. He wouldn't get very far... He got winded just hopping up the stairs to his room. The pain medication made him sick and his ankle throbbed something awful from the tips of his toes to under his knee cap. His right leg was shit, he wouldn't be able to drive. Jim slapped his knees. He couldn't leave. He couldn't get ahold of anyone. Already the lights around his home had started to dim. He cursed running a rugged hand over his greasy hair and stood up to grab his crutches.

If he wasn't going out then he was going to made damn sure no one would be able to come in…

Brown Hair raised his eye brow at Jim, his eyes raking up and down his body. Jim opened his mouth to spit something else but the man cut him off.

"Look, I used to be a doctor and I know you don't trust us but you need to let me look at you. You don't look very good."

Jim felt his already sweaty face drain of color. He hated doctors. He hated hospitals. They were the reason everyone was sick. They were the ones who couldn't find the cure in the first place. They were the ones who casted his leg wrong and made it hurt. They were the reason people were dying. They were the ones responsible. Jim felt his breathing get faster, faster and faster.

Brown Hair took a step forward. Hands out he gently said, "My name is Doctor Leonard McCoy I'm from Atlanta, Georgia. This is Spock, we're with a few other people who are downstairs right now under orders not to take anything." He took another step forward acting as if Jim was a hurt animal. His eyes went to the black cast that still covered Jim's ankle from toes to below the knee but disappeared under his jeans. "We don't want to hurt you or your kid, alright? I think I should take a little look-see at your leg."

"I don't need a Sawbones!" Jim said loudly causing Kevin to press into him harder. Spock stepped forward beside the man named Leonard.

Leonard stopped and nodded his head aggressively. "Okay. Okay. Fine. Then why don't we start with your name and how the fuck you managed to hole yourself up in this house of yours without any of the Dead One's getting in?"

Jim looked at the two wearily. He hadn't spoken to anyone older than Kevin in months. He was skiddish, they could hurt him. They could hurt Kevin. Finally he rented. Telling them his name couldn't hurt.

"Jim Kirk."

"Hello, Jim," Leonard smiled with the side of his lip. "Can we talk outside this claustrophobic as hell bathroom?"

Jim still had the gun in his hand but his arm was tiring with every second that passed. Man, maybe something was wrong. He felt so weak.

"Go in the bedroom," he ordered gesturing with the gun out. Leonard nodded but it was Spock who turned first to leave. When it was just Kevin and Jim in the bathroom the little boy looked up at him for the fist time. Dried tears and snot crusted his face.

"Are they gonna kill us?" He whispered, some of his words slurring through the small gaps where baby teeth were missing. Jim didn't know how to answer so instead of lying he deflected.

"Hey," he said to the boy calling his attention. "You and me, right? The two mustekteers, yeah? We'll be fine."

 


	4. The Rain

It takes two tries to get out of the bathtub.

"Fuck." Jim wiped the sweat from his face with the bottom of his t-shirt then straightened. He forces himself to take a deep breath calming his pounding heart and shaking hands. The gun is pointed at the ground on the opposite side of Kevin who sits on the shelf of the tub. "Alright," he nodded to the boy who stood before also nodding his head with a put upon hard look covering his face that just looked adorably silly on his small pudgy face. Jim opened his mouth to say something else but Kevin put his hands on his slim hips and shook his head, frowning and mirroring Jim's scowl and frown.

"Yeah, fuck," the little boy said determinedly. Jim's eyes widened, he jerked his head around eyes wide and opened his mouth then closed it again looking like a fish.

Wait… what?

After the initial shock had worn off Jim chastised himself. Damn, he was never supposed to be a parent. Great fucking job he's doing. If the kid had anywhere else to go Jim would have sent him right along the night he'd stumbled to Jim's door sobbing and pounding the door with his little fists begging for his mother and saying that he couldn't find her. But Jim didn't have the heart to send the kid away or the means to get someone else to take him on, so he kept him. Like a puppy that cried and talked back and snuggled so close to him he'd felt like he was surrounded by a tiny octopus.

"Alright Cowboy, no need to be a hero," he smiled at the boy and roughed up his greasy brown hair before turning from him and exiting the bathroom.

When Jim came limping from the bathroom with Kevin placed firmly behind him he was surprised to see the Sawbones – Leonard? – easily reclined on his bed, head resting on his pillow. Spock stood by the boarded up window looking through the crack in the wood Jim had made to look outside at what hell the world had become.

"Make yourself at home," Jim hoped his evil eye portrayed his annoyance at the man in his bed.  
Don't get him wrong, Leonard was good looking. Tall, southern by his accent, brown hair that looked soft to the touch and a stubbled chin that Jim could picture himself running his tongue–

Not the time Jim, not the damn time.

Leonard looked at him from his bed sitting up. "Why don't you come on over and I'll take a look at that leg of yours?"

Jim crossed his arms. His mom used to always tell him he was a stubborn son of a bitch. "Why don't you tell me what's going on out there."

From the window Spock tilted his head, "You do not know–"

"Hey, I didn't find anything in the other…" A woman came walking into Jim's room before halting so hard her hair swooshed in front of her face. She was beautiful, dark skinned and armed with knives at her hips. Her eyes were big and brown reminding Jim of Kevin's. She was beautiful and Jim silently thanks all the deities out there that the first woman he'd seen in so many months was this long legged goddess.

God Bless beautiful women.

Leonard rolled his eyes when the woman just stood there staring at Jim with confused dark brown eyes. "Jim Kirk, Uhura. Uhura, play nice with the man who owns this house that we just broke into." He said tiredly closing his eyes. Jim had to hold back his huff of annoyance again at the strange man in his bed.

"I know you," she blurted out. Jim looked at her. "Me?"

"You hit on me in a bar once, in Pittsburg." 

Jim raised his chin not knowing what she was talking about but agreeing with her all the same. "That does sound like me."

"I didn't know you had a kid," she looked at Kevin who shied behind Jim's leg further. Not my kid, he wanted to say but instead he smiled a tight lipped little thing that didn't reach his eyes. "Long story."

"If you two are quite finished," Spock came across the room to stand next to Uhura. He crossed his hands behind his back at the wrist like a soldier. "I believe you have questions for us just as we have questions for you." Jim nodded and before his new visitors could say anything else, walked over to the chair next to his window – old, blue and blotched with bleach stains after an unfortunate cleaning incident a few years ago – but still a hell of a comfortable chair. He tried to hold back his limp but felt like he was wholly unsuccessful as he sat down hard then brought Kevin up onto his lap. Leonard, who had watched him walk looked at him with a hint of sadness and a degree of longing in his eyes before he shook his head and the scowl was back. Jim cleared his throat.

"So tell me why you felt the need to break into my house. What? The world isn't shitty enough without all this home burglary?"

"We incorrectly assumed all of the residence of this neighborhood were evacuated. We are in need of supplies." Spock spoke so mechanically Jim wondered if he was a robot instead of a man.

"What would you do with the supplies?" He asked. It was a stupid question but he needed to cover all his maybe them thinking he wasn't all that smart would turn out to be in his favor.

"We have a camp four miles from here."

"How many people lives in your camp? Is it one of those uh," Jim faltered at the word. "Uh, safe areas?

"Negative." Robot Man didn't even blink. "The designated Safe Zones are one hundred eight point four three miles away from our camp thus rendering it too far."

"Why not drive?" Jim questioned. Uhura snapped her head up from where she had been looking down at the carpet. "No one has any electricity to power the cars."

I have a car that uses gas, Jim thought but said nothing. Better to keep a few aces up his sleeve. Not for the first time he congratulated himself for being one of the few people to still own a gas powered car after they'd all but been eradicated with the new era of electric cars.

God Bless forward thinking.

You know what just god bless Jim fucking Kirk because he seemed to be the only smart one lately.

Other than the whole tripping and falling down the stairs in his own home and breaking his ankle. Then just about killing himself trying to reroute a circuit that was attached to the main line and electrocuting himself while tinkering with the generator. Also the whole people breaking into his house and him hiding in the bathtub thing...

Yeah, other than those things he was pretty fucking smart, if he did say so himself.

"How many people live in your camp?"

"Including those with us now fifty eight. We allow anyone not sick into our camp as long as they provide positively towards the well-being and establishment of the camp."

Damn.

"And how do you know none of those people are sick?"

This time Leonard spoke, "All those not immune are already sick or dead by this point."

There was that word again. Immune. As if there were people out there who couldn't get sick at all. Lucky bastards.

Finally Jim asked a question he had been hypothesizing about for the last few weeks. "Is it true the ones who are dead only come out when it rains or at night?"

"Affirmative." Spock said the same time as Leonard scoffed. "The Dead One's can't take the sun because it burns their skin, but they love the rain and the darkness."

"Well then," Jim looked out his small peephole. "Looks like you all are spending the night with me." Outside the first drop of rain fell against the sidewalk. On the roof the patter of rain could be heard. Leonard crossed his arms finally standing from Jim's bed as he looked up at the ceiling to hear the sound of rain hitting roof. Kevin looked up at Jim and whispered close to his ear, "Does this mean the strange people have to stay?"

"We have some questions for you Mr. Kirk," Spock called Jim's attention from the scared boy in his arms.

"Call me Jim," he countered. Mr. Kirk was his father and he was dead.

"Mr. Kirk, why are you still here?" Spock didn't even bat an eyelash at going against Jim's wishes. Jim huffed out a small breath. Oh well, if they wanted to kill him and steal his stuff they could've done it already. No need to tell all his secrets but they'd given him information he might as well open another lane and make this a two way street.

"When the evacuation order came out I had just broken my ankle." Leonard perked up at that. "I couldn't leave the house. I couldn't drive. I couldn't call anyone to come get me since the phone lines were dead." He specifically did not mention the fact the he had no one to call in the first place. "So I stayed. Started making it so no one could get in unless I let them in." Which also begs the question, who in their group was smart enough to pick his lock?

"How is it that you have electricity and others do not?"

Jim shrugged and slipped in an easy lie. "I have an engineering degree." Then added on the truth, "My parents worked at NASA, I helped out there for a time. Re-figuring a circuit isn't all that hard. I built a generator–"

"That's lasted this long?" The woman named Uhura looked surprised.

"What? Like it's hard?" Jim knew he was being an asshole but hey, these people broke into his damn house.

"You seem to have a supply of food, how did you come across enough to last you and your son this long?"

Not my son, Jim thought but didn't say anything. He didn't need Kevin to start crying again. "I'm not a hoarder," he prefaced. "But I did like having an excess of food or bottles of water and shit. I guess it came in handy." Jim purposely did not mention that after his father had died and his mother started to shut herself down with grief he had run away from home telling himself he'd live off the streets. He was fourteen and ready to face the world – or so he thought. He'd made it four months before he let himself be found when he walked into a police station wearing clothes that had once fit him but now hung off his wiry frame. The words starved and malnourished made some dent in his head and he swore to himself he would never fight or beg for food again. He would never be hungry again.

He also didn't mention that hadn't had a full meal in about a week. He even had to make Kevin's portions a little smaller to help save. Jim estimated they had about another two weeks of food and three of water before they ran out. Maybe it was a good thing these people had showed up.

"Alright," Leonard interrupts before Spock can ask another question. The man was looking at Jim intently from his face down to his right leg. Maybe how hard the strange man was staring at him was the reason Jim broke out in a cold sweat over his brow. The room seemed to get colder making Jim shudder and wish for a jacket. At the same time however the nausea and sweat on his forehead made him want to just sit still and stay forever, never moving with his heavy limbs. "I think I should take a look at ya, kid. You ain't looking too good."

Jim pushes down the sickness in his throat. Swallows it like he had for the last few days. "Don't touch me Sawbones," he says darkly. No way in hell he was getting anywhere near a doctor. Nope. No way. Not for him. The man looks angry at Jim's words.

"Come on," Jim gestures to the door after a minute of silence with the Sawbones guy staring at him a little too hard. "I need to go downstairs to fix the lock you broke then we'll find someplace for you to sleep until morning." If the three were surprised by his offer they didn't show it instead filing out the room in front of Jim and Kevin. Kevin jumps off Jim's lap and walks to the door watching them go down the steps. Before Jim gets up from his spot on the chair he looks down at his hand surprised to see he was still clutching his gun. He adjusts his grip ready to put the thing behind his back but then frowns. There was something off about the piece that caught Jim's attention. He expels the cartridge and peeks at the inside. A shiver goes down Jim's spine as he looks at his gun. He has to laugh at himself, one quick brutal chuckle. It's not even loaded. An empty cartridge stares back at him like the lone Reaper standing in a foggy cemetery with his scythe and black cape rippling on the ground.

This day just keeps getting better.


	5. The Desperate People

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for mentions of possibly triggery material... Uh, I mean this is the end of the world people! Shit's gonna go down!

"I think this guy's got the sickness," Adam Hendorff says crossing his arms and scowling. It wasn't that he was angry, just annoyed. They would have to kill him now before he could die and become a Dead One.

"You think?" Chekov whispers, he doesn’t want the man to hear him. He suddenly feels scared. He knew he couldn't get sick, he’s known since the outbreak that he’s immune, but the process of watching a sick one die was not pleasant. It was sad, terrifying. The strange man with dirty blond hair and a slight limp had opened his home to them for the night and this man had a son. He was nice.

Sulu leaned against the granite countertop next to Chekov peaking around the younger man until he spotted the stranger by the door. He was on his butt with the leg that had a black cast encasing it splayed out straight and the other one bent as he worked on the large metal lock that used to be fastened to the door. The guy's kid sat across from him silently playing with a yellow and red car. He zoomed the car forward, then back. Forward and back. All while puttering little noises from his mouth like an engine moving along. It was a child's toy that Sulu could remember his little sister playing with when they were younger. It was a pleasant scene with the man occasionally whispering things to the boy and the boy smiling up at him as he played. It almost looked normal. Like this was months ago and the world hadn't gone to shit.

However, the unnatural sweat dripping off the man's brow tainted the scene. He was pale, his hands shook minutely as he worked a screwdriver into the metal box surrounding the door knob. He looked like shit. He looked like he was sick.

Great… Just wonderful…

"He don't got the Sickness." Chekov jumped as Leonard came to stand next to him staring at the man and child. Leonard didn't take his eyes off the strange blonde. "Jim said he broke his ankle about three months ago, got a cast put on around that time. That casts’ been on too long. He's got an infection." He said it so matter of factly Sulu has no choice but to believe him.

"What?" Chekov looked at him critically. Leonard didn't take his eyes off the man but lowered his voice to a murmur.

"There's discoloration in his toes along with swelling that shouldn't be happening this far post injury also," he lowers his voice even more. "You can smell it, can't you? I can practically smell it. The idiot must've submerged his leg or something in the months they've been hiding here. It’s infection. Water gets under the cast and it can’t dry making the skin soft and thin. Wouldn’t be too hard to get an open wound going that would have a damn hard time closing."

Sulu ran a hand over his black short chopped hair. "But how do you know he doesn't have it?"

"None of the symptoms are there. He's sick, that's for damn sure, but not from the Sickness. If the dumbass wasn't dead set on keeping a ten foot radius between us I could get down and get that damn cast off to check it out.”

"How do you know he ain’t just fakin’? He could be covering up the real symptoms," Hendorff huffed gruffly, not convinced. If the guy was Sick they'd have to kill him and then they'd probably have to kill the kid too. They probably got each other infected.

And Hendorff hated killing kids. Really he did.

But this was life.

Leonard raised an eyebrow at the bald man who stood like a jackass with his arms crossed. "I'm a Doctor, damnit. I know these things.”

Hendorff shrugged. Leonard turned back to Jim and Kevin and muttered to himself. "I need to get that cast off his foot and treat him if he wants to go with us tomorrow."

"Whoa, what?" Hendorff uncrossed his arms. "Are we just picking up randoms now?" His voice was steadily rising. "We don't even know what they're about. For all we know he's some kid fucker!”

Hendorff didn't like new people. New people meant new problems and uncertainty. Nothing good.

Spock came into the he room having stood up from the couch where he had been trying to relax after the stressful day they'd had. He came close to Adam, right up close until they were but inches from nose to nose. "I would advise you to keep your mouth closed. Mr. Kirk has kindly offered his home to us for the duration of the night or rain storm. However, if you feel you can survive the night outside the premises than I believe we can and shall oblige you." Spock was calm but his words held fire.

 "Whatever." Hendorff scoffed before going off to the living room and plopping down on the couch in a huff. Leonard looked to Spock gratefully, his hands shaking slightly in fists by his sides. He didn't know why he felt so protective of the man in the other room now silently working on the lock to keep them in and the Dead Ones out, but he did.

It was a little over fifteen minutes later when Jim and his kid came walking – or in Jim's case _limping_ – into the kitchen. Sulu, Uhura, Chekov, Scotty and Hendorff sat on the couch relishing in the smooth softness and only slightly envious that Jim had gotten to live so nicely over the last few months and they'd had to struggle. Sulu leaned back on the couch with his eyes closed while Chekov flipped the page in a book that had been open on the table in front of the couch. Uhura did the same to some magazine next to him. Hendorff had his arms crossed scowling but no one paid him any mind. Scotty itched to go downstairs to take another look at that generator but Leonard had told them all in not so gracious terms not to go around snooping anymore until the Jim guy could talk to them. Leonard stood with Spock in the kitchen. They were quietly conversating over the benefits verses dangers of bringing this new man with them back to camp.

On the one side he was somehow smart enough to build a generator from parts he happened to have laying around. He also had an engineering degree from somewhere and was efficient enough to construct a lock even Chekov had trouble breaking. He had enough foresight to store food and water and had managed to take care of not only himself but also the little boy who stayed glued to his side. On the other hand however, they knew nothing about him. He might've been a decent person before the Sickness but circumstances turned good people into desperate people and desperate people were dangerous.

"All locked up, I hope no one wants to leave cause you're not getting out," said Jim wiping his hands on his jeans coming into the kitchen. Kevin clung to his pant leg sucking on his right thumb and looking up at the two men with big eyes holding his toy tightly in hand. Leonard thought it odd the boy looked nothing like Jim.

"We do not wish to." Spock had his hands placed behind his back. "Also, we appreciate your willingness to house us. We are in your debt." If this were a few months ago Leonard would have rolled his eyes at Spock but now it was different. He was different. Hell, everything was different. Spock had saved his ass too many times for Leonard to poke fun of his strange mannerisms.

Jim waved the black haired man off dismissively. Sweat shined on his pale face and he visibly gulped wiping away at his forehead and above his upper lip. Leonard wanted desperately to ask to look at the man. Just do a quick once over to check and make sure he was alright. He was sure he didn't have the Sickness but whatever he did have Leonard didn't like. Jim licked his lips.

"There's bottled water in the cabinet. The fridge works but grab what you want fast or else you'll let out all the cold air. Also there's some cans and stuff in that cabinet." He pointed to beside Spock. By this point even those sitting in the living room were listening intently. Jim looked suddenly nervous as his hand shook slightly where it was rubbing against his hip. "Uhh, there's a room upstairs that you guys can use. Or the couch if you want and...  shower..." He started to sway on his feet. More swear glistened his brow. Leonard took a small step forward. "Kev and I share a... a room now so you don't have to... Don't have to…”

Suddenly blue eyes rolled to the back of Jim's head and the man's legs went to jelly as he fell forward. Someone screamed, it was high and sounded like a child. Leonard was there first catching Jim before he could hit the ground. Spock was right next to him in a second.

"What is wrong?"

Leonard felt the man's sweaty head then opened up his eyes to check his pupils. He felt for a pulse feeling the fast thready beat that concerned him. He looked down at the man thinking fast. Sulu was suddenly next to him on the other side of Spock. "What do you need Doc?"

He let his instinct kick in. He was calm. Once a doctor, always a doctor.

Jim was still held tightly in his arms with his face buried into Leonards’ neck. The feeling of his breath ghosting over his skin made the older man shiver.

"Spock, we need to look at his leg, get that pant leg up to expose it. I don't care if you tear his pants. Sulu get some water, cold if there's any. And a washcloth. Now." The two did their duties. "Chekov!" He yelled the younger man over. "I need you to get one of my knives. The serrated one big, black handle. It's in my bag. Get the medkit and also grab the disinfectant that’s in my bag." Chekov didn't move, feet planted firmly and a look of horror on his face.

"A-Are you going to cut off his leg?"

If Leonard was a more patient man he would have been able to deal with stupid questions on a more daily basis. However, Leonard was not a patient person.

"No idiot we're getting the damn cast off now go!" Time was of the essence.

Leonard looked up as he set Jim's pliant body on the cool tile of the kitchen. He heard a small sob and looked up to see the kid, Kevin, crying. "Nyota!" He called and the woman was there sweeping the child into her arms and cooing at him before taking him into the other room. Spock ripped the pant leg to and past Jim's knee then sat back. The cast had small chunks ripped out the top from where Jim no doubt had tried to pry the thing off. That was the thing about casts though, they were child, idiot and normal person proof. Leonard was no normal person, he knew how to get a cast off even if it was a strong, hard SOB.

Chekov came running back into the kitchen with Leonard’s knife and kit clutched in tow with a bottle of disinfectant. He passed it to Leonard’s waiting hands. He opened the bottle poring it over the knife. It wasn't perfect but it would do. Hopefully he didn't knick Jim's skin with it anyways. Sulu got down on his knees by Jim's head. He put the cloth in the water, rung it out then placed it on Jim's burning forehead without a word from Leonard.

"Alright," the doctor said scooting closer to Spock. "We need to saw off the cast." Thank God he always kept his knives sharp and his kit was stocked with even more than he needed. Spock nodded.

There was movement from Jim, his leg twitched. "Sawbones...?" He slurred opening blearily overly blue eyes to look down at Leonard by his ankle.

"You’re alright Jim but we need to–”

"No!" Jim just about squeaked not having any more energy to speak. "No, p-please don't." Jim struggled to move but his attempts were useless as his body disobeyed him. His eyes were panicked and breath came too fast. Leonard turned back to Spock getting ready to ignore the man completely until he yelled, actually _yelled_ for the first time. "I-I don't consent. I don't!"

Automatically Leonard's hands jerked back off his patient. "What?" He demanded more than asked. That's when he noticed Jim was crying. Actually crying with tears traveling sideways down his face and into his ears or onto the tiled floor.

"I don't give you my consent. Please. Don't." He pleaded. Leonards’ heart broke. What the hell had happened to this kid?

Leonard bit his lip hard feeling a spike of pain and the saltiness of blood. "Fuck," he whispered.

"Doctor McCoy?" Spock looked at him with worry in his eyes and Leonard was shocked to see that emotion, or any emotion in his otherwise stoic friend. Jim shook as his body tried to fight off the infection and his panic attack.

"Fuck it."

And he picked up his knife. Desperate people and all that. He was a doctor damnit and what could they do? Take his license away? The people who did that are probably dead by now just like this blonde haired man was about to be if they didn't work fast.

Jim was still trying to get away but his movements were slowing down from their already weak attempts. Fat tears rushed from his red eyes making the blue an almost striking color. "Sawbones, what? What are you–”

"Okay kid, we gotta take this here cast off.” Leonard growled crowding into Jim’s face letting his anger and a bit of worry show. “You've kept it on too long and infection’s set in. You're gonna die Jim, you realize that? If I let this stay on you're gonna die and leave Kevin all alone. You'll leave him."

Low blow. Real low but Leonard was going to dish it all out if it meant saving this kid’s life

"I'm sorry," the sincerity in the man's voice almost made Leonard's eyes water. And just like that the fight left the kids’ body and he went limp. Leonard brought up his knife to begin to saw away at the cast.

"Bones?"

"This is gonna fucking hurt, kid. I'm sorry."

"Do what you gotta do."

And he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually having a lot of fun writing this, I hope you are also enjoying it!


	6. The Forgotten Ones

Lights, someone talking and another whimpering lightly next to him drew Jim from the depths of his mind. There was brightness behind his eyelids causing it to look almost pink as he struggled to open them. The light made his head throb with the force of a hundred hangovers. It was too bright. Somewhere deep inside he felt a whimper escape his mouth. Suddenly whatever was causing the brightness and the searing of his sensitive retinas was turned off and he sighed contently feeling groggy. Foggy. Like he knew he should open his eyes but at the same time the devil on his other shoulder whispered in his ear for them to stay closed.

Was he dying? Was he already dead? Was this what heaven felt like?

Jim hoped this wasn't heaven, it smelled like shit. Body odor and sickness.

There's a soft touch on his head as if someone is caressing him. Fingers run through his hair slow and tender. It makes him feel grounded and gives him a tether to grab a hold of. He tries to lunge at the soft touch at the top of his head but the feeling retreats. It's gone. As if it were never there in the first place. Jim's world is dark, empty and now without the warm presences. He feels sad.

"You're one lucky son of a bitch."

It's the first and last thing Jim hears as he tries to claws his way back to consciousness. He thinks the voice says something else but he's not sure as the steep hill he's climbing goes out from under him and he loses his footing along with his grasp on reality. He falls feeling darkness consume him once more.

\---

It can't be too long later when Jim comes back to himself again. It's easier to make the trek up the never ending mountain and he comes back to himself with a gasp. His lungs burn for air like he'd never breathed a day in his short life. He keeps his eyes closed focusing all his energy on bringing air into his sore lungs, then back out. It takes hours or days or maybe minutes until he feels the ache retreat from sharp all-consuming to a roar of dull fiery embers. This time, he sits still not making a sound and in turn hearing nothing around him. There's no warm presence, he feels cold. Slowly, gently, he opens his blurry eyes surprised at the crust that sticks them together. He attempts to bring his hands up to rub at his eyes but when he goes to move them they're nothing more than dead weight at his sides. Jim looks around the room, panicked.

Did those strangers poison him?

Where the fuck was Kevin?

If they hurt that little boy Jim swears to God not even the Devil himself could hold him back. He's not just some dumb hick from Nowheresville, he could take them. Maybe not at the current moment but definitely when he has his strength back from wherever the hell it was sucked away to.

He tries to move, to get up and out of wherever he is but it's futile. His legs don't move. They're stuck like they've been glued to the sheets of the bed he lies on. Jim's breath starts to quicken once more along with his heart beat.

 _Move, move, move, you idiot_! He screams clenching his teeth to hold back his grunt and scream. It feels like his arms are shifting through molasses but eventually they do his bidding. He tries to put his hands under his right leg to get it to shift over to the side of the bed like he's been doing for months but stops when pain like he's never felt before shots up his leg. He cries out silently feeling himself start to freak out. Pain. Panic.

_Don't panic Kirk, keep it together._

Jim isn't sure how he gets on the floor but he suddenly finds himself laying on his stomach on the ground feeling bile race up his throat. He turns his head and retches on the carpet as silently as he can. He's shaking and covered in throw up by the time he's finished. Part of him feels a little grossed out at the contents of his stomach staring back at him on the floor and partially on his clothes, but he forces himself to forget about it.

 _Kevin_ , he tells himself.  _Those bastards better not have hurt my so– that little boy_.

He feels weak and heavy, groggy and just this side of panicked. Jim forces his protesting body to move,  _damnit_  and miraculously it does. He crawls breathing hard and heavily towards what looks like a closed door. The door itself seems familiar but the haziness and his blurred vision don't help him as he attempts to focus his gaze on it. He crawls for what feels like hours but couldn't have been more than a few minutes until he feels his arms shake so violently that his elbows buckle under him and he falls face fist into the carpet. His right leg protests overwhelmingly as it's jarred and he can't hold back the scream that rips from his throat. Everything hurts.

He's on fire.

No, he's rotting fast and painfully from the inside out.

Oh God, a thought finally breaches his foggy mind – he has it. He has the Sickness. Those people had the Sickness and gave it to him. He's dying. He is going to die. Oh God. Did Kevin get it? Did they just leave him here to rot and die and take the boy to safely?

The fight abruptly drains from Jim as the thought of being alone consumes his body. Dread cocoons him wrapping him in its acid tendrils. Now he can't blame the strange intruders for running away as fast as they could from him. He's got it, it's the end. He would have done the same thing.

Well, he would have put the person out of their misery before leaving them to be consumed but Jim supposes that it isn't a perfect world after all.

A tear makes its way down Jim's cheek and he curls into himself on the cool plush carpet. His stomach hurts as he crunches in on himself into a fetal position. His mouth is dry but sticky as snot and tears run down his face and he sobs.

He's alone.

He's going to die on this floor with his leg on fire and his body not cooperating with him.

He is going to die  _alone_.

He thinks of all the times he stayed in when people who he wasn't necessarily friends with but acquaintances begged him to go out. He used to love being alone – having time for himself to study or clean or tinker with  _this_  box circuit set or  _that_  motor. His being alone had always felt full and comforting, but not now. Now he felt empty. Unwanted. Unloved. A kicked puppy finally giving in and not barking back anymore.

The world was such an unfair place.

He feels like throwing up again but doesn't have enough energy to even gag. His head thrums with his quick heartbeat telling him he's still alive for now but promising it won't be long. Jim gives out another hearty sob winding himself into a tighter and tighter ball. This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to die like this. It was supposed to be a long, long time from now after he'd gotten a degree and a nice ass job with a nice ass house and a cute ass dog with equally cute ass children and a hot ass partner by his side holding him in his arms as he keels over from old fucking age. Jim used to have dreams of gazing up at the stars looking as they twinkled and sparkled above. There would be a blanket under him as he lay in the arms of the person he loves with all his heart. They would gaze at the stars then gaze at each other knowing that nothing,  _nothing,_  could make life better than this, than this moment of looking at each other and seeing absolute trust with absolute love and absolute safety.

But none of that was going to happen, he was going to die here on the carpet with throw up on his shirt.

God, why did his life suck?

Jim lets out another sob because fuck the future he never got the chance to have and fuck the people who got him sick and fuck Kevin's parents for leaving the poor kid to fend for himself but most importantly fuck Jim for not being fucking smart enough to live any longer.

He's going out like his dad, in a blaze of not as much glory and less sacrifice but equally as not fair and far slower.

His dad was an astronaut, but man was never really meant to go to space. Not now anyways. Not when they weren't even smart enough to create shuttle crafts that didn't fucking explode four minutes and thirty-eight seconds after liftoff. Winona had helped engineer the craft, she never forgave herself. Jim had been eleven years old when he saw the explosion light up the TV screen as he sat on the couch with Sam and Grandpa Tiberius.

It was obvious that George Kirk was dead in an instant. No pain. But what good does that do? Okay yeah, George felt nothing but what about Winona as she sank to the ground in the underground room she'd just kissed her husband goodbye in then watched him and three others walk out and up to the craft like heroes ready for space adventure? What about Sam who screamed as flames filled the sky? The shuttle seemed to just float for a second before it came crashing back to the earth. Tiberius placed a hand over his mouth, silent tears shed as he watched his son die in an instant. And Jim, just starting to grow into his lanky limbs and skinny frame sat and stared open mouthed and eyes wide.

Some things you just never forget.

And now Jim was going to die just like his dad died but for all different reasons. He was going to die because he was an idiot. A stupid little fuck who thought there was no way he could get sick. It wouldn't happen to him, couldn't happen to him. Absently he wonders what type of – what was it the others had called it? A Dead One? – he wonders what type of dead one he would become. Would he wander aimlessly around the streets limping and dragging his limps at night with no purpose trapped inside a body wanting nothing more than to drift? Or would he become a runner whose purpose was to feed? God, he would hurt people. He would try to fucking eat people!

Jim feels his stomach clench hard as he gags dry heaving. Spit drips from his mouth covering the side of his face.

 _Shit_ , he thinks.  _Fuck_   _me. Fuck this world_. He's so angry and sick and embarrassed and weak. But mostly angry and weak. And tired. God was be tired. Alone. He was all alone.

There was once billions of people in this world but now there were probably closer to millions after the Sickness. There were so many people and here Jim was forsaken. Forgotten. Him and his shadow. One more among the many to succumb to the plague. It's a terrible feeling realizing you're not special, that you never were. Realizing that you're going to die on the floor from sickness.

Jim thinks he hears something above his head. It sounds like a gasp but maybe it just comes from his own mouth as he cries into his chest. He doesn't notice as the door is flung open. He doesn't notice as a person curses loudly. He's too caught up in his own head.

"Jim!"

Then there's another shout, louder and more demanding this time as the person jumps into the room rushing over to Jim's sobbing figure crumpled on the floor.

"Jesus kid," the person whispers and goes to get Jim to untangle himself from his own body. Jim whimpers something to slight to hear. He looks up at the man who is staring down at him worriedly. Jim is surprised to see the brown and hazel speckled eyes staring down at him. The man as a strong jaw, thin lips and hair that looks soft enough to run his fingers though.

 _Sawbones_?

Jim blinks up at him before feeling a cry bubble passed his lips. Even with the man so close he still feels a nagging feeling devastating his gut. Alone. He still feels so alone.

"Don't leave me alone..." He whispers brokenly in a voice too soft and way too hurt to be his own. "Please... don't leave me. I don't want to be... alone."

And his world goes dark as he feels himself falling. He thinks he hears someone far away say something but he doesn't know as he falls though the cold darkness.

"I won't Jim. I won't leave you. I promise."


	7. The Not-So Brave

The next time Jim opens his eyes his head is noticeably less foggy and he is definitely less panicked. He wakes slowly feeling himself ascend from a warm lake coming to the surface from dark to light peacefully. He takes a breath filling his lungs then letting it loose before opening his eyes a crack. He expects light to flood his vision like last time. He expects pain. But the lights in the room are dimmed. If anything he just feels confusion as he opens them further. Jim looks up at the ceiling recognizing the aged water spot to the left of his vision as well as the strange cracked design. He moves his head to take the whole room in.

It's his room.

Jim looks down at his body seeing that someone has not only changed his clothes but they also tucked him in. Blankets are piled around and on him. They're warm, soft. Comforting in a way that Jim hasn't felt in a long time. Some of the blankets Jim doesn't recognize at first but then it clicks in his head and he knows they're from the storage area down in the basement. Old quilts that were given to him from an old boyfriends' grandmother just because she pinched his cheeks and called him a cutie. Jim tries to move but gets as far as just shifting sideways when a whimper, small and childlike, sounds next to him making him jump. A dull throb bounces around his body starting at his stiff back and going down his right leg ending at his ankle where it intensifies then slowly fades away. Jim looks down feeling an even more intense warmth coming from his side. He moves his head and smiles as he spies a full head of brown hair and a sleeping face pressed into his arm. Jim's left hand twitches as he feels Kevin unconsciously grip him tighter. He can't help the smile that slides across his face as he looks down at the small boy.

It almost feels like any other day waking up in bed with Kevin next to him burrowed into his side with limbs wrapped around him like a monkey. The little boys' breath is soft as it leaves his slightly open mouth to hit Jim's bare arm. Jim lets air slowly out of his lungs feeling himself sinking into the comfortable warmth and safety of his bed. It's just a normal day. The world around them is in turmoil but they are safe here in his boarded up house with his supplies. They don't leave the house, no one comes into the house so there's no way he could get...

A cold rock lands in the bottom of his stomach as Jim jerks his eyes open in panic. He's got it. Oh God how could he have forgotten? How the fuck is Kevin in bed with him? No... No Kevin can't be here. He can't get sick he's got too much to live for. He needs to grow old. He needs to find someone to love. He needs to sit under the stars and map the constellations and have cute ass kids and a cute ass dog and a cute ass partner with a cute ass and... Jim shakes his head. Was he thinking about himself or Kevin?

He needs to get out of here. He knows he does. He goes to move away from Kevin but three things happen simultaneously; Kevin latches on harder to his hand squeezing hard and not letting go. Pain shoots up from his ankle not as bad as before but enough to steal his breath making him choke. Finally, someone's hands come to his chest pushing him back into the mattress with a shushing sound soft but insistent. Jim struggles weakly. He can't do it. He can't hurt the little boy. He can't get anyone else sick. He won't. He'll... He'll kill himself before he takes anyone else down this horrible road with him.

"Jim. Jim, calm down. Take a deep breath." Someone orders. The voice sounds familiar coming from the mass above him holding him down.

 _Just kill me_ , Jim thinks desperately.  _Kill me so I don't become one of them_. He doesn't want to be a Dead One. He can't. God, he can't do it. He thought he was brave. He thought he could go down with a little fight and a lot of bravado but he can't. He can't be brave. He can't become one of them. He'd scared. So scared.

"I'm not going to kill you, kid. Jesus Christ. Just calm down." Orders the voice again. "Take a deep breath."

And Jim does. Not because the voice told him to but because his lungs were starting to burn from caging the air inside. He didn't even notice he had stated to see stars until they faded from his vision. Distantly, Jim sees the lights in the room go up from dim to almost too bright but they stop before his eyes start to water. The man grabs his right hand and holds it tight. "It's okay kid. You're alright."

"No." Jim says when he has his breath back. Tears rim his eyes as he looks up at the person above him. The man looks so familiar it takes him a few seconds to realize who it is. Sawbones. One of the people who broke into his house. He grabs at the mans' hand and holds on with all he has. "P-Please take Kevin away. I don't want to hurt him. P-Please." He pleads.

Sawbones looks at him before falling back into a chair that was placed next to Jim's bed. It takes a few moments more than it should but Jim realizes that it's his bleach stained chair from by the window that he used to use to watch the Dead Ones at night.

"You're not sick," Bones doesn't let go of Jim's hand. "Well, you were but not from the Sickness. You had an infection." Jim feels himself whither slightly at the news, relief flooding through him. No sick. That meant Kevin wasn't sick and he wasn't alone.

"Infection?"

"Yeah." Bones shakes his head and lets out a self-deprecating laugh. "Water got under you're cast. It didn't dry and got infected." Jim feels himself coming down from his panic. He's no stranger to panic attacks so the lathery that slides around in his appendages is nothing new nor surprising. Bones was still talking, "I treated you with the stuff I had in my medkit and you've been out for a few days. You're an idiot by the way."

Jim, who had been listening but also felt sleep start to take hold of his body now that the fear and panic had started to subside snapped back awake. He looked over at Bones feeling a small pebble of anger shift in his stomach. "I'm a what?"

"A goddamned idiot, you know that?" Bones took his hand away and stood up towering over Jim. "What were you  _thinking_  taking a shower with your cast on? And don't even tell me you didn't because I'm a damn doctor and I know what a soggy, water logged cast looks like. I know some blame can be placed on the hospital because the thing was wrapped wrong but Jesus Jim, taking a shower? Getting it wet? Have you never broken a bone before? Aren't you supposed to be this smart engineer? Mr. I-Can-Build-a-Fucking-Generator-From-Tinfoil-And-Ducktape? What would your son have done if you'd died, huh? How long do ya think he would've survived without–" he stopped suddenly looking down at Jim.

The man lying in bed had tears in his eyes, one escaped and ran down the side of his face quickly disappearing as it was soaked up by the satin pillow case. Jim didn't look up at the yelling man above him feeling a different kind of sickening nausea in his throat. He was angry but not at Bones or anyone else but himself. He felt like such a fucking idiot. He'd taken a shower a couple weeks ago when he couldn't take his own smell and even Kevin had commented on his dirty body. The washcloth and baths sitting in his own dirty water hadn't been enough and so he'd just stood in the shower stall using his crutches naked but for the black cast.

_What an idiot._

Now it all made sense. The feeling of nausea, of wanting the throw up so bad every time he moved around in the last week. The dizziness that made him sit right back down every time he stood. The sweating and hot flashes searing his body. Jim refused to look up at Bones. "I'm sorry."

The fight melted from the older man's body as he pursed his lips. He placed either hand on his hips and stared down at the man and boy in bed for just a second before sitting back down in Jim's favorite chair. "It's alright kid. You're gonna be fine. You're a pain in my ass but you're gonna pull through."

"Is that you're official prognosis?" Jim let his lip move up in the smallest of smiles and tried to wipe the tear tracks from his face but he had little energy to move. Bones ran a hand up over his face, through his hair and down his neck before leaning down to put his elbows on his knees.

"I've been takin' care a'ya for about four days and I can honestly say you're one of the most hardheaded and difficult patients I've ever had."

"It's a gift," Jim would have shrugged if he could. His voice was still a little weak, breathy. It's strange, that someone who barley knew him would want to take care of him. Jim had never really had anyone take care of him before. His mother was more of a rub dirt in it type before his father's death but then after she just didn't care too much about where Jim was. Tiberius didn't last too much longer, having had a bad heart before the explosion and while Sam cared for Jim he was out of the house and practically ran to the farthest college away from Riverside, Iowa he could get and never came back. In all his life he'd never had someone actually sit at his bedside waiting for him to wake. He'd never really had anyone care enough.

Jim didn't really know shit about being cared for.

"What about the others?"

"They're downstairs probably just waking. Scotty attacked your generator a few days ago and managed to get enough power to get the TV and fridge going full time. Not that there's really anything interesting to watch. There's just the same broadcasts about the Sickness over and over again. They're watching it to see if anything new comes on. Spock put together a list of all your supplies and marked out how much longer we can live here before we run out of food. Sulu and Chekov have been playing an ongoing game a chess for the last two days..." Bones trailed off taking hold of Jim's hand again. Jim's eyes had started to close. "The important thing is that you're in the clear and Kevin won't have to go on without his Daddy."

Jim looked up at Leonard. There was a dark shadow across the man's face making his lips thin and eyes go dark. Jim stiles a yawn and says. "I'm not his dad."

"What?" Bones questions too quickly. Jim looks down at the boy still latched to his side. His breathing is coming slowly. Still asleep.

"He's not mine," Jim feels familiar rage and anger bubble inside of him at the unfairness of it all. He steels himself, preparing to tell Bones the story. He knows now he can trust the man. Hell, Jim would have died without him. "I'm not sure what happened exactly, I'm not even sure Kev knows everything. His family's been my neighbor for the last few years since I moved in. Whenever Amy, his mom, went out and Gregg wasn't home she would send Kev over here so I could watch him. Sometimes I wouldn't even be home and he would just sit on the front steps waiting for me." Jim smiled down at the bundle with a mop of brown hair.

"The little shit would just sit on the ground and I would pull in with my motorcycle and go inside and he'd follow like he's lived here forever. Amy and Gregg were having problems for a while and I think she had a baby but I'm not sure when exactly. Amy never was a very good person, let alone Mom." Leonard looked away from Jim at the same time Jim felt his lips being pulled down at the edges. He knew what it was like having an asshole of a mother. Maybe that was the reason he'd opened his home so willingly to the boy. To save him from starving on the streets when he was old enough to realize that what was happening wasn't right and wasn't fair and maybe, just maybe, might be his fault.

"Gregg left a year ago. I heard yelling and doors slamming and the next morning I found Kev on the front steps shivering and crying. He told me about Gregg leaving and Amy getting drunk and passing out. I let him stay until Amy sobered up and called him back... Anyways, a while ago after the evacuation notice was issued and everyone left it got super quiet around here. It was, maybe, a day later I was sitting down stairs and I heard crying. I'd tried to board up the windows and doors but something about the crying sounded familiar. Then there was pounding on the door. I opened it and there he was. A sobbing mess in dirty clothes and greasy hair begging to come inside and just about pushing me over when he ran at me to wrap his arms around my legs. He said his mom just left him but he was pretty sure she took the baby with her, his little sister Angie. I really hope she did." Leonard shivered not meeting Jim's eye. "And so that's how I got this little guy. So yeah, I'm not his real dad. At least not by blood. I haven't fucked him up too bad. Yet. Or at least I hope I haven't."

Jim felt tired after his little story. His breathing was coming faster even though he felt so tired.

"I think you've done a good job so far, Jim." It must've been his imagination because Jim thought he saw tears gather in Bones' eyes before he wiped his hand over his face and cleared his throat.

Jim let a small laugh escape his mouth. "Other than collapsing on the kitchen floor."

"Wasn't too bad," Bones lied. "Nyota got to try out her mothering skills and I'm pretty sure between Scotty and Chekov they've pseudo adopted the little guy. Hendorff even let him sit on his lap for about ten minutes until he shooed him away but Adam's kinda an asshole anyways."

Fuck. Jim didn't even know who the people Bones was talking about were. He remembers vague faces but mostly it's a blur. He doesn't even know who's been sleeping in his house, eating his food, fixing his generator and taking care of him for the last few days.

The world hates Jim.

But, Jim also kinda hates the world at the moment so he doesn't care too much.

"We have enough food to last us another four days or so but after that we have to think about leaving for camp."

"I," Jim starts but clamps his mouth shut for only a second before he thinks  _fuck it_  and spills his secret. "I have two cars and a motorcycle."

"We know," Bones says with certainty before shaking his head. "They don't have any gas and they're not electric so we can't charge them." He says it so dejectedly Jim almost feels his despair. Jim bites at his bottom lip and grits his teeth before continuing with his secret. This man saved his life. He didn't think he'd leave him after sitting by his bed for days. "The gas is in cans in the guest bathroom."

Bones shook his head looking confused. "What do you–"

"The guest bathroom is the locked door in the hallway to the right of the stairs. The key is in taped to the bottom of the kitchen table," Jim confessed feeling almost guilty. "I siphoned the gas out and put it into cans so if anyone broke into the garage they wouldn't get very far with my cars."

Two cars. A nice one and a nicer one. Both with barley any miles on them and bought with the money he'd gotten when he turned eighteen and was granted his share of his fathers and grandfathers life insurance money. He had too much money and figured, what the hell? So when he'd gone to the lot to buy one he'd ended up getting two then coming back for a motorcycle. Sleek and black, all of them. And even afterwards he'd still had too much money.

An unexpected laugh bubbled from Bones as let his head fall into his hands. He laughed again. "No. They wouldn't get very far at all."

But Jim wasn't done yet. In for a penny, in for a pound and all that bullshit.

"There's also more food stored in there. Cans and water and bags of crackers and other stuff..." He bit his lip again feeling guilty for not telling them sooner. These people could have been starving themselves for the past few days thinking what Jim had downstairs was all they had to go on to survive.

But then again these people broke into his house.

A shape fell into place in this jigsaw that was now his life and Jim let himself feel content. They were now even. Though he did feel slightly guilty.

"Hey," Bones says. "It's alright. We all have food stashed away in our packs and you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. I understand."

Jim nodded feeling sleepy.

"Alright," Bones said. "I think you should get some more sleep. Your body needs a bit more rest. Stay in bed this time though, got it?"

"Aw fuck." If Jim could he would have smacked himself. "I must've freaked so bad, didn't I?" He didn't remember all that much other than the sickening panic that consumed him as he lay on the ground.

"Yeah," Bones shook his head. "A little bit."

"You should've just left my ass on the floor." The  _that's what usually happens when I have a panic attack_  goes unsaid.

Bones smiled down at Jim with a small glint in his eyes. Jim feels himself starting to fall back into the warmth that was his bed. Next to him Kevin's steady breaths were like a soothing melody pulling him under. He feels Bones moving the blankets around a bit before the man sits back in his chair. Jim started to fall asleep to the sound of soothing silence around the room only stirring slightly when Bones spoke.

"I couldn't just leave you there looking all pathetic."


	8. The Children Not Saved

When Leonard sees Jim's eyes roll into the back of his head he sat back to watch the man sleep. It had been strange, he was a trauma surgeon or, well, he  _used_  to be one anyways. He was used to the gut wrenching  _go, go, go_  barking of orders and demanding stats from hurried nurses. While he did do his rounds at the hospital once in a blue moon he had never really sat by someone's bedside waiting for them to wake or make any sound at all. Sure, he'd sat beside Jocelyn when she went into labor and held her hand while she screamed and created life but other than that he'd never been the go-to guy for sitting patiently while a patient slept. The thought crossed Leonard's mind not for the first time since coming into this house; what was it about Jim Kirk that made him want protect him? Clearly the man didn't need protecting. He had a nice little set up with his house and his electricity and his cars and food. He'd planned – however unknowingly – for the worst and now was semi-thriving in a world where everything had gone to hell. This man was an enigma, Leonard concluded crossing his legs right over left and relaxing back in the blue chair.

He sat like that for a few minutes going over all the younger man had told him. From the gas cans and hidden food to the small boy still sleeping in the bed.

A chill ran down Leonard's spine suddenly surprising even him. He grit his teeth feeling his lips form into a snarl as he stared down at Jim and Kevin. Anger and hurt lit a fire in his veins and filled is mouth with a bad taste making his hands clench to stop the slight trembling. He held himself back from running his fingers through Kevin's long scruffy hair as he slept plastered to Jim's side. How could someone just leave their kid like that? Jim had said the mother's name was Amy – how could she have left her children? Leonard felt burning at the back of his eyes as he thought of the body of the small baby in the house next door. Angie. The baby had a name and it was Angie.

Leonard would do anything, he would give up his whole damn life to get Joanna back and that woman... That woman just left Kevin and... and... Leonard didn't want to think about the baby. He had to tear his mind away from the images so ingrained in his head he didn't think he'd ever forget it. Such a small innocent being brought into the world to be loved and cherished and she was cheated. Cheated out of a good life because of her good for nothing mother. Leonard wasn't usually the praying type but at the moment he bent his head and laced his fingers and prayed that that woman was dead and gone screaming down to Hell.

When he was done Leonard unclenched his white knuckled hands and sat back looking down at the injured man and his son. At that moment he swore he'd take care of them. He couldn't take care of his own baby or his wife but he would take care of them. This strange man who was smart enough to build a generator and make his house into a type of fortress but stupid enough to get his cast wet and the little boy who refused to leave his side. He made a promise that he wouldn't leave Jim alone and Leonard was damn sure going to keep it.

\---

It was a few hours later when he was sure Jim was comfortable slumbering deeply that Leonard got up from his chair and stretched. His back popped in a few places and he sighed in content before moving off to the door. He was about to walk downstairs when he heard shifting from the bed and turned. Kevin's large eyes were open staring at him then darting to Jim who slept on. Kevin's bottom lip trembled as he saw the pale pallor of Jim's face and Leonard moved without thinking. He rounded the bed and came to his knees beside the boy. Kevin looked over at him.

"Is Jimmy gonna be okays?" His bottom lip trembled more. Leonard smiled at the boy the same smile he used to use on Joanna after she'd have a bad dream. He didn't think, just spoke trusting that instinct that used to be ingrained in his head. The insistence to be a father that wasn't easily lost even if his own baby was.

"Yeah buddy, he's gonna be fine. Do you wanna come down stairs with me? I'm sure Ny's got some food ready." Kevin gripped Jim harder fright alight in his eyes. It was a wonder the man didn't wake from Kevin's fingernails digging into his hand but at the same time Leonard knew Jim had been through a lot. His mind might even need more rest than his body. "Or you can stay here," Leonard placated. Softly he said, "Whatever you wanna do."

"He doesn't like it when I call him Daddy." Kevin looked away not meeting Leonard's eye. He spoke again so softly and so sadly that it took Leonard's breath away. "Is that cause he doesn't want me?"

If Leonard could he would have scooped the child up and held him close promising everything he had. He would shield him from the demons and tuck him away from anything that could hurt him. He wanted to keep him safe. His throat tightened in fear. It was what the same feeling he'd had for Joanna before she slipped through his fingers. When she had first told him she didn't feel well and he'd touched her forehead gingerly, bit back his tears and told her he loved her, that she was going to be okay. A part of him knew right then that there was nothing he could do, that this was the start of the end. Then he held her close promising her the world and begging for death not to take her.

But death didn't really care about love. It gave a big fuck you to it, in fact.

"My real mommy and daddy didn't want me either," Kevin mumbled digging himself down deeper into his pillow when Leonard took too long to speak.

"No, no, no." Leonard came closer to the boy and the still slumbering man. "You're parents loved you very much," he whispered feeling his throat start to close. He was now leaning on the bed just inches from Kevin's tear filled eyes and pudgy face. "They loved you with everything they had but sometimes things just get in the way and they act differently than they mean to... I-I had a daughter once and she was just about as stubborn and beautiful as you." Leonard tapped the end of Kevin's nose and smiled at him. The little boy seemed to brighten slightly at the gesture.

"I'm handsome," he said sternly. Leonard had to fight back his own tears.

"Yes, you are," he answered back just as sternly. "But I loved my little girl more than the world," his voice started to scratch. He must've swallowed glass. "And I'm sure your mamma loved you just as much. She just had a hard time showing it is all. And Jim? I'm sure he loves you even more than the world, he's just scared."

"What's he scared of?"

_Of death, of dying, of fucking you up beyond what can be fixed. Of having to wrap you in one of Grammy's old quilts and dig a hole in the old peach tree field just large enough to fit a small body yet still too small, a child's grave. Of carving your name into a peach tree trunk using his sharpest knife. Of never getting to see you grow, not getting to see that sweet baby face mature into a beautiful woman. Of never getting to hold you while you cried from your first broken heart or not being able to walk you down the isle. Of not being a Daddy anymore. Of loosing only thing in the world that gave him hope..._

It took three hard swallows before Leonard could find his voice again. His heart beat fast in his chest as he looked down at the small innocent child that had a hand latched to Jim's and stared up at him with so much innocents and youth that Leonard feared this may all be a dream and he'd wake up to realize both Jim and Kevin didn't exist. He was surprised to realize that he didn't want that. Didn't want it at all.

Gently Leonard ran a hand through Kevin's hair before leaning forward to kiss his forehead with a slow peck. "I think it's time for you to get some rest." With that he was up and across the room to the door.

"Bye Lenny," Kevin whispered loudly. Leonard turned and smiled at the boy before shutting the door with a click behind him.

Leonard came down the steps quickly like an excited child with fast feet. He hit the ground not stopping and turned towards the kitchen. He smelled breakfast being made from cans and prepackaged wraps. Uhura stood at the stove folding powdered eggs with one of Jim's multicolored spatulas. Spock also stood in the kitchen preparing lemonade, pink lemonade by the looks of it. He stirred the pitcher with a bright yellow spoon that had a smiley face cut out of the end. Leonard ignored them walking briskly over to the table. Scotty, Chekov and Sulu had a game of cards going with pennies, dimes and quarters that he quickly shoved aside.

" _Oi_!" Scotty cursed him gawking at Leonard.

" _Kakogo cherta_?!" Chekov looked murderous surrounded by quarters and a few pennies.

"Len, what's wrong with you?" Sulu looked angry but Leonard ignored them all collecting the cards and other things on the table into a pile. The table was of medium size, a four top make of dark wood.

"Hold this." Leonard shoved all of the change and cards into Scotty's lap. "Get up." He said to Chekov and Sulu. He didn't wait for them to move and certainly didn't look at the cursing Scotsmen before he uprooted the table on its side.

"What's he–"

"Shh." Uhura commanded cutting off Hendorff who had wandered in to see what all the fuss was about.

"You little shit." Leonard breathed to himself as he reached forward spying the key Jim had told him about. It was small and taped with silver duct tape to the middle of the wooden table. He ripped it off and turned ignoring the questions coming from all sides. "Follow me Spock." And the man did as Leonard retraced his steps to the stairs. The others followed at their heels. Leonard lead Spock to the strange door they couldn't get open during their first inspection of the house. He jiggled the door handle. Locked tight.

"As we have already established this door will not allow us entry I fail to see how..." He trailed off as Leonard inserted the key into the lock and turned it to the left until he heard a click. Leonard then pushed the door open into a dark room. He reached in feeling for a switch only for a moment before finding one and flipping it on.

"Son of a bitch," Leonard exclaimed taking in the larger than normal guest bathroom filled with not only large red gas cans but also normal food cans and bags of assorted foods. There were even more blankets and two backpacks stuffed full with what he could only guess we're supplies beside the toilet.

_Jesus Jim... What did you do?_

Not for the first time Leonard wonders what else the kid was hiding. What else was he not telling them?

"Indeed." Spock stepped around Leonard into the bathroom.

"When was the guy gonna tell us about all this?" Hendorff was behind Leonard looking at the supplies with an almost animalistic glee. Leonard scoffed feeling the need to defend Jim.

"Why don't you tell me when he was supposed to tell us about this stuff, huh? Was it when we were breakin' into his house or when he was unconscious on the floor?" He hissed. Hendorff had enough mind to put up his hands in surrender before taking a step back from Leonard.

"Deep breath Len, now's not the time to get all defensive housewife on us," Uhura didn't look at the older man in front of the door choosing instead to stare at the jar of grape jam tucked in the corner clearly labeled. Her mouth watered.

Leonard whipped around to glare at her stuttering. "What-I'm not, housewife? I'm not, no-"

"Alright ladies calm it down," Sulu smiled at the two trying to get the conversation to simmer down. Leonard huffed and nodded but looked at Uhura with a promise in his eyes that this wasn't over. Uhura smiled back at him in a challenge. They both turned back to the bathroom. Spock was now on the other side practically in the shower scanning the four or five cans of gas, a small grin colored the side of his mouth.

"The question now is how the hell did that smart bastard get all this up 'ere?" Scotty had his arms crossed as he stood behind Uhura with Sulu and Chekov. They probably all looked like a sight, Leonard mused. Scrunched into a small hallway ogling at a barely lit bathroom stuffed to the brim with supplies.

"How was Jim supposed to get zis down stairs?" Chekov questioned. It was a valid point. In the case that Jim would've had to clear out of the house how was he planning on getting all of the supplies down into the car, especially if he was in a hurry? Hobbling around with a bad ankle wouldn't have made anything fast. How was he thinking to get everything together in a hurry? Leonard looked over towards the toilet. While the bathroom was spacious it didn't allow more than one person inside with all of the supplies stacked everywhere.

"Hey Spock, look in those backpacks. Tell me what's in them."

Spock maneuvered around careful not to step on anything as he moved aside packages and large food cans and jugs of water until he was by the close lidded porcelain toilet. He reached over grabbing one of the packs that looked like a normal school bag but sagged with weight when he held it up. Placing it gently on the side of the sink, Spock unzipped the zipper, reached in he brought out a few small boxes. Medicine boxes. White with their labels clearly written on the sides looking like they've never been opened since they were bought from a pharmacy. Spock moved more small boxes around and Leonard could hear the sound of pills hitting pills in their bottles. It's a jingle he hadn't heard in such quantity for a while. Spock then set that bag aside to bend down and retrieve the other one, this one a dark purple while the other one was a dark blue.

He does the same as the first setting it on the counter before unzipping it. Spock peaks inside then looks up at the other members of his search party. "It is more medical supplies." He reaches into the bag and retracts his hand and sure enough there's bandages, salves and creams. Band-Aids and wraps. Leonard hadn't seen a better stocked medical bag and if he didn't know any better he'd think Spock was shifting through his own medkit with his doctoring supplies stashed away.

Why did Jim have all of this? Why did he have boxes and boxes of pills and jugs of water and packages of food stored up here? The Sickness had come so fast no one really had a chance to store anything and when it hit everyone went crazy pillaging the stores and stealing what they could. But Jim couldn't have done that, he would've already had a broken ankle and been immobile. That means he would have had to already have everything stored away before the Sickness hit. There was dust already settled on most of the surfaces in the room which means this stuff had to have been here for a while, but why? When would Jim have gone out and got all this? Or did he get it before he got hurt, before the Sickness hit?

"Leonard," Uhura says to his right. "I think there's some things your boy isn't telling us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently going through a rough patch in my life where everything just seems to be going wrong and while that all sucks your kind words for this story have really helped. Thank you.


	9. The Unorthodox Plans

"I think," Jim started staring up at the ceiling, "that the world hates me."

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic." Bones was next to him with a hand on his forehead and an eye roll already falling over his features. Jim shifted in his bed as Bones continued his exam. Kevin was downstairs with the rest of Bones' crew most likely eating or running around or wreaking havoc on Spock's nerves or whatever it is kids did during the apocalypse. It had taken two days for the child to start to get angsty staying in the room with Jim. It had been easier when it was just Jim in the house, he was the only one he could babble at and the only one who would talk back. But not now. Now there were six others who he could talk to and who had to talk back because, as he'd figured out a few days ago, the strange people living in downstairs thought he was funny and would diligently listen to his stories. The funny sounding man with curly hair liked to play on the floor with him with the toy cars he'd thought to pack in his bag before running to Jim's house after he couldn't find his mom. The curly haired man would then pull the funny eyed man down to the floor with him and the three would race cars around the living room.

Jim liked that Kevin enjoyed the others company so much but at the same time he didn't like having the kid out of his sight. If he could he would have kept him concealed in his room, hidden from the world and all its danger. But Jim couldn't do that. He couldn't hide the child forever and anyways, Kevin needed to get to know these people for when Jim sent him away with them…

"Alright I'm going to put this here needle in and take it out slowly and it's going to burn." Leonard flicked at the syringe like the asshole he was then took hold of Jim's right arm and slowly poked him injecting the medication. Maybe if they were better friends or had known each other longer Bones might just have jabbed Jim hard without the added information about what he was doing. As it was, Jim was still weary of the doctoring even if he felt comfortable with the man. "Okay. I'm taking it out. This is gonna sting."

"No, no. Keep it in," Jim hissed through his clenched teeth sarcastically. "It fuels my hate fire for you."

Bones chuckled taking out the needle ignoring Jim's hiss and quickly covering the spot he'd used to inject the medicine before a trickle of blood could escape down the curve of Jim's elbow.

"Jim...?" He asked after a few minutes. Jim looked over at him tearing his eyes away from the ceiling and the thoughts that had started to take over his mind since he'd come up with his plan. "Yeah?"

"Why... Why did you have all that stuff locked in the bathroom? It's not like we're not grateful, don't get us wrong but ya gotta realize that we've been stealin' and scroungin' for everything we got for so long..." Jim was quiet for so long Bones feared he'd stepped too far. Quickly he said, "You don't gotta tell me if you don't wanna, of course."

"No it's-it's okay. I just..." Jim had to clear his throat. "I went through a hard time when I was younger and I kept stock of things when I got back because I didn't... I didn't want to feel the way I felt again. Hungry. Alone. Like if I died no one would care. So I fixed what I could, I started making sure I would never go hungry and when everything went to shit I guess it was just luck I had all that crap already stored away. I needed Kroger points a few months ago so I bought a bunch of gas and no one really buys gas anymore so I got it for cheap and again, I guess it was just luck that I had it and gas powered cars... It's just luck, Bones."

Jim would never tell the man the whole story, he'd never tell anyone. Eating out of dumpsters, begging for food, the kindness of strangers a myth that didn't exist as he lay in alleys and pleaded people for anything he could get. Dark nights that led to rainy days that only brought about darker nights. It was all so horrible, being so hungry the cramps didnt even faze him anymore. It was something he'd vowed he'd never feel again.

It was then a surprise to Jim when Bones put his large, warm hand on his exposed one on top of the comforter. The man looked at him with gold speckled eyes and they just stared at each other for the longest time. As Jim gazed into the older man's eyes he felt something unclench in his chest, something he didn't even know congested in there tightly. He felt it crumple as Bones looked at him with a sense of rightness and – what was that? Affection? Love? No. No way, love didn't exist for Jim. It must be just genuine affection and understanding. Yeah, that was it. 

What was love anyway? Love was for chumps and bullshitters and people who wanted their heart broken. And Jim didn't want that. He didn't want any of it.

Jim didn't know a lot about Bones but from the little hints he got here and there he guessed that something terrible had also happened to him and if the way Jim caught him looking fondly at Kevin in an almost anguished sort of way he knew it had something to do with the baby he'd let slip that he'd had. Jim wasn't about to ask about the man's past, however. This was a new world and as such nothing from the old one really mattered anymore. It was time to make a new life and a new future.

Bones slipped his hand away from Jim's after a moment and stood up dusting off his jeans in the process. "Well, I think it's about time for you to get up and go downstairs. I don't know about you but I'm fixin' to get something to eat."

With a smirk Bones turned to leave. Almost at the same time Jim's stomach growled and he rolled his eyes just as Bones had done earlier at him. "Alright old man, help me up why don't you." Then he pulled his blankets back. Jim had been moving around a few times a day since he'd woken up. Mostly it was short trips to the bathroom or stretching his legs. His right leg from toes to below his knee was heavily bandaged in a wrap the doctor had stored in his medkit after Bones had drained it off puss and infection. He'd bound it tight and told Jim he needed to use his crutches for a while but with the medication he'd found in Jim's storage-room-slash-bathroom he'd said if he took the pills he would be off crutches sooner. The bone was healed, however incorrectly, but healed all the same. He could put weight on it. The only concern was for the stitches from the incision Bones had made to clean out the wound.

The first time he had stood and took a step forgetting his crutches because damn did he have to pee, Jim had cursed almost falling to the ground after his knee buckled under him. Bones was there in an instant helping him back to bed with a scold and a slap on the wrist. "Crutches Jim. Use the damn things or I'll sew them to your arms."

"Alright help me up," Jim demanded when he sat up. He really didn't need the man's help and at first it had hurt his already brittle pride to ask for it but Bones had really been so kind and had helped him when he whimpered involuntarily that Jim didn't care about his pride. He had never had anyone want to help him so much let alone actually sit by his bedside to look after him. It scared him and made him feel good at the same time. His warring emotions were too confused to lean to one side or the other.

"You big baby," Bones grumbled but stood next to Jim putting his hand on his shoulder ready to grab him if he fell but also knowing the younger man was independent enough to want to stand on his own. Jim held back his grunt as he stood up keeping most of his weight on his good leg. Bones passed him his crutches to which Jim bit his tongue to stop the sharp retort at the metal things that had scratches and nicks on the sides from Jim's hard handling of them over the past four months. His crutches were made by the Devil, Jim was sure of it.

"After you, Princess." Bones smiled at Jim.

"Fuck you," Jim smirked back going ahead of the older man. He crutched to the stairs then threw his crutches down one at a time not caring as they hit the wall at the bottom of the steps. It was his house, damnit.

"I wish you wouldn't do that." Bones grumbled just to grumble. Jim knew the man didn't really care either way.

"And I wish you would stop sticking me with needles but hey! Looks like that's not happening either."

"Maybe if you stopped getting hurt I wouldn't have to stick you."

Jim scoffed getting down on his butt to gently slide down the steps. He'd tried backwards crawling, going down three steps at a time yesterday but then his knee had slipped and he'd gone down four steps before coming to a painful stop when Bones grabbed his shirt. After that Jim and his wounded pride had decided slow and steady wins the race.

"You've known me for like, three weeks." Jim said as he scooted down step by step. Bones kept his eyes rolling behind Jim's back coming down one step for every two Jim scooted watching him closely even while he pretended not to care. He had his arms crossed and an annoyed look on his face even if he was more amused than annoyed. "And in the last three weeks you've been out cold for a most of it."

"You're exaggerating."

"You're annoying."

"You have a weird face," Jim bit back and Bones laughed for the first time shaking his head at the blonde.

When Jim reached the bottom of the steps he grabbed at his crutches. They hit against each other as Jim maneuvered them around. He heard the sound of little feet hitting hardwood floor a second before Kevin came around the corner at full force. The small child only just managed not to run into Jim instead wrapping his arms around Jim's legs and smiling up at him. "Dad-Jim! Jim! Jim!" The small child sing-songed happily. Jim's smile faltered slightly as the child almost called him Daddy, again. It's not that he didn't love the little boy but... He couldn't be a dad. He wasn't ready. He'd screw it up. He loved Kevin but he knew it was only time that stood between him and leaving the kid. He wasn't the father type, hadn't had anything to go by. And besides, he'd hate him soon enough after Jim's plan went into effect.

"What's up buddy?" Jim forced his smile but as Kevin laughed up at him with reddened cheeks the smile became genuine.

"Karu was racing but then Pav ran over his car and I said that wasn't very nice but then he tried to run over my car and I love,  _love_  my car. It's  _so_  cool and so I ran away. Ran so, so fast..." Kevin continued to babble excitedly down by Jim's knees and Jim listened to him until the boy ran out of breath and went to drag in air for another long winded story and Jim laughed.

"Okay buddy, okay. Why don't you and I go get something to eat, huh?" The boy nodded leading him towards the kitchen where he could hear the sounds of the others moving around and talking.

"It lives!" called Scotty cheerfully jumping up from the couch to pat Jim on the shoulder when they came around the shoulder. Chekov also came over, "It ees good to see you out of bed, Jim." He said smiling. They had all seen him while he had been bedridden however he had never actually seen them all in a group – Bones had made sure of that. He'd claimed he'd wanted to keep the excitement down and too many people would be bad for Jim's health. Jim thought it was all bullshit and the Doctor just wanted him to himself. That was probably also Jim's dick talking more than his brain but the thought was nice. Seeing everyone all around the kitchen and living room was a small shock to Jim however as he gazed around the rooms. It was strange, he'd known these people were living downstairs but knowing it and seeing it for the first time were two different things entirely. It was like finally finding that old lady who lived in the shoe and being overwhelmed that there was not one but six of them all tucked away in his shoe... Or in his house. Either way.

Jim wasn't good with metaphors.

 _They're all gonna hate me_ , Jim thought sadly looking at the six people.

"Jim?" Bones gently tugged at his sleeve snapping Jim out of his own thoughts.

"Oh yeah, Bones sounds great," he smiled trying to cover his momentary lapse with a smile and small talk that he hoped answered whatever Bones had asked while he wasn't paying attention. The others were silent and staring at Jim with confused looks as if he were crazy. And, if he wasn't lying to himself he'd bet after everything that'd happened he didn't have all his screws tightened.

Bones looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Why don't we go sit down, I'm sure Ny's almost done cooking." Then without saying anything he pulled Jim to the table.

"When did she become in charge of my kitchen?" Jim questioned Bones lowly when they sat down at Jim's small four top.

"When Spock started only cooking vegetarian meals and Hendorff threatened mutiny." Bones muttered into Jim's ear. Jim shivered as the man's lips brushed his ear.

 _Calm down, Kirk_. He commanded his body sitting down on the other side of the table from Bones. Kevin chose that moment to climb into Jim's lap with a smile on his small pudgy face. Jim held back a hiss as the child got comfortable and accidentally jarred his still sore leg.

"Easy darlin'," Bones said to Kevin but it made Jim shiver. The glint in the older man's eye as he looked down at the little boy with his features soft and inviting made Jim want to jump across the table. But he held himself back. He was no animal, thank you very much. Also he didn't have enough energy to stand long periods of time let alone jump across a table.

"Come and get it!" Uhura called unnecessarily loud in Jim's small home making Jim wince. After a quick look from Bones and the order to stay where he was the older man stood up to get Jim's plate, Hendorff and Scotty not far behind. Spock stayed back choosing to sip his cup of what looked like steaming tea as he stood out of the way. It was organized chaos as bodies moved around Jim's small kitchen grabbing plates, scooping food and picking up utensils then retreating away to eat. A plate piled high with food was set in front of Jim and Jim gaped at the large quantity and almost protested but then two sets of forks were also placed beside the plate and he knew he'd be sharing with Kevin. Jim knew from experience the little boy was small but could pack food away like it was his business. Powered eggs and dried meat that Jim had stored away stared back at him looking better than what Jim would have made for himself had this been a month ago.

Not everyone agreed, however.

"Mmm powered eggs, powdered Milk and dried beef. My favorite." Hendorff scoffed at his plate while he leaned against the basement door with fork in hand, scowling.

"Relax Cupcake," Jim said as he helped Kevin hold a fork that was too large for his hands. He barely knew the guy whose real name was Adam but everyone called Hendorff but he already had a sore spot for him. "If you don't like it you can eat beans again."

The room was silent before Scotty walked by Hendorff and patted him on the shoulder. "I'll eat it if yer nae gonna." But Hendorff held his plate close to his chest as walked off into the living room without another word passing Sulu and Chekov on the way to get their breakfast.

When they'd all gathered their food and sat down, Spock and Uhura at the table with Jim, Bones and Kevin. Chekov, Scotty and Sulu stood around the kitchen leaning on the counter tops. It was anything but a silent affair. Everyone had their own conversations going, even Kevin chattered away at Bones who seemed to be listening intently. Chekov laughed yelling something in Russian to which Scotty yelled back in his heavily accented voice before Sulu joined in and they were all giggling to themselves. Spock was in deep conversation with Uhura about something or another, Jim wasn't paying attention to their words but his voice was almost soothing to listen to as the two went back and forth discussing mundane things.

A Scotsman, a Russian, an Asian, a southern man and – Jim wasn't quite sure what Spock or Uhura was – all sat or stood in his kitchen having a merry time laughing and talking. It all sounded like the start to a bad joke.

Jim brought his fork up to his mouth eating his portion of food while Kevin did the same in his lap still speaking animatedly to Bones. Jim tried to take everything in; the way they laughed. The way they joked. The good natured ribbing mixed into the blatant respect they had for each other. Jim felt lost, like he didn't belong. He didn't know how to act, how to react. This wasn't him. He wasn't born into a good family, he hadn't grown up with a house full of happiness or laughter. The life that he would have had was torn away when that shuttle exploded killing his father and taking the rest of his family with it.

Jim Kirk was bad news.

Jim Kirk was bad luck.

Jim Kirk didn't belong with these people.

Jim Kirk would only slow them down.

Spock, who had been in discussion with Uhura turned away from her. He looked once at Bones who nodded at something unsaid then looked at Jim.

"Jim," he started. "We would like you to come with us to our camp."

Ice swarmed inside Jim's veins. Oh, fuck.

"What?"

By this point he had everyone's attention. They all stared at him as if he were under a microscope. A line formed between Bones' eyebrows at Jim's surprised, even somewhat angry tone. Something wasn't right.

"We would like you to accompany us to our camp. We believe you to be a smart, achieving individual that can help us further our survival." Spock's voice had no inflected yet at the same time Jim could see the man was almost pleading with him to come with them.

With a shake of his head and a pit so deep in his stomach that Jim felt nauseous he said lowly, "No." Then, because he was already digging his own grave he said, "You all can stay a few more days but then you need to leave. Take what you want and... and take Kevin with you and get out." 

Jim stood up forgetting his crutches and limped to the stairs ignoring the shocked expressions behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone pointed out that this Jim Kirk is different than Captain Kirk - and that is correct. The Jim Kirk in this universe has had a different upbringing and while he still has greatness in him he is going to need some help getting out of his own head and finding it. But fear not readers, that's what Bones is here for ;)


	10. The Needs of the Many

"Jim!" Leonard was out of his seat following the limping man up the steps two at a time only a moment after Jim escaped from the table leaving his uneaten food and confused child behind. Kevin had been hastily placed into Uhura's lap looking around with big tearful eyes.

"What do you mean  _no_?!" Leonard practically shouted at the stupid man when he opened the door to his room. Jim sat in his blue bleach stained chair with his arms crossed looking out the window. Sweat glistened on his brow as his chest moved up and down sharply attesting to the hard pace up the stairs he'd just done. He didn't look at Leonard and that almost made the older man angrier.

_Kid had enough balls to drop this shit on us but apparently not enough to look me in the eye._

"You can take the cars. You can take the food and medicine and gas. You can take..." At this Jim's stoic voice faltered slightly. It was rough as he continued. "You can take Kevin with you but I'll be staying here."

Outside must be pretty fucking interesting since Jim still wouldn't look away from the window.

Wind howled against the window that would have warped with the force of it had there not been wood nailed to the sides boarding it up. Leonard had his hands on his hips, back slightly bent as he glowered at the sitting man. "Are you gonna give me a reason why you're suddenly acting like a four year old?"

"I'm bad news, Leonard," Jim sighed still looking out the window through the crack in the wood. The sky was darkening fast, clouds were rolling in. "The people around me just get hurt. So I don't keep anyone around." He shrugged at the last part. Leonard felt the fight drain out of him at the kids' words. He barely knew this man sitting dejectedly in front of him but for some unknown and ungodly – 'cause it sure as  _shit_  made no sense – reason he just couldn't leave him.

"You can't live your life like that, Jim."

Again Jim just shrugged.

"Don't make me sic the kid on you." Leonard was bringing out the big guns early to try to stop this stupid argument before either of them said anything they'd regret. "I'm not above making Kevin come up here to cry in your face like he's doing downstairs–"

Jim seemed to whither at the comment. "Don't. Don't do that to him. Just take him and go."

"No."

_Hold you're ground, Len. Don't give up a single yard._

Anger flashed through Jim's too bright eyes. He jumped to his feet, steadied himself and yelled, "Why won't you fucking listen to me, damnit!"

"Because you're being a damned fool!" Leonard was right at his toes. "Jesus kid, I'm a doctor not a psychiatrist you gotta tell me what's wrong or else I can't help ya fix it!" Jim said nothing biting at his bottom lip until it swelled. Leonard continued on, battling through. "Kid, you're smart. You got that big fancy degree an–"

"No, I don't." Jim interrupted sinking even more in on himself, the fire dying in his eyes until they were red rimmed and crystal blue. Leonard felt himself jerk back confused.

"What?"

"I don't have any degree. The university shut down when people started getting sick. Didn't finish, no degree. Not smart." and Jim sat down heavily as if this had been one big secret he'd been holding for too long.

Though the kid lied to him, Leonard couldn't find it in himself to be angry. Jim was just full of secrets – he'd come to understand that in the short while he'd known the blonde – and Leonard would just need to accept that the kid didn't trust easily and lied to protect himself. While Leonard didn't understand why he felt the need to lie about his fucking  _education_  he guessed if it made sense to Jim he probably had a good reason. "A degree doesn't make you smart."

Jim shook his head rolling his eyes. "Says the doctor."

There was a commotion from downstairs before a round of yelling that sounded loud even from upstairs rang through Jim's home. They seemed to be yelling at each other. Abruptly the loud conversation ended and the running footsteps began. Jim looked up at Leonard who turned to walk towards the door to see what all the commotion was but stopped when the door was flung open. Chekov powered into the room not even out of breath but with a wild look in his eye.

"Leonard! Len, ve have to leave. Now!"

"Why, what's wrong?"

"Scotty hooked up za radio again and za station said zey had a siting. Zere ees a pack in the neighborhood. Ve got Runners and zey're coming in fast." Leonard's eyes bulged. The Russians' accent was coming in thick with his rushed speech.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

This couldn't be happening. Not now.

Outside the first clap of thunder made Leonard jump. Lightning came next lighting the sky in an arc of power.

"How do you know they're coming here?"

"No one else alive in the whole housing division. Zey can smell us."

"They  _can_?!" This was obviously news to Jim. He'd been hidden away in this little sanctuary of a home for the whole downfall of humanity so it was no surprise that he hadn't known about the Runners. "But-but they've come through before and didn't bother us."

"It was just you can Kevin then," Leonard turned to him. Jim's face was pale and he could see that his hands shook slightly in his lap. "Now there's nine of us. Nine bodies give off a bigger smell than two, get what I'm saying? We have to leave."

"Da! We are clearing out za bathroom now. ETA zen minutes. Meester Spock says zat ve vill leave vith all persons." Chekov glanced over at Jim who was staring at the kid. Jim's face reddened and he looked away back towards the window that had begun to clink with the sounds of rain. Leonard nodded at the boy who turned swiftly on his heels and left closing the door behind him. He could hear the others in the hallway, gathering supplies from the bathroom, no doubt. Leonard was sure they could handle the task of grabbing all the essentials without him.

They were like a well-oiled machine. They were like a true crew.

"Radio?"

Really? That was the question Jim had decided to go with? The man didn't look too upset about people basically ransacking his home but, Leonard reasoned, he'd already basically given them free reign before he'd stormed off up here to have his little pity party.

"Scotty hooked it up, there's a station that people radio into to say where the Runners are. No one really cares about the other Dead Ones, just Runners."

Even if Jim was understanding what Leonard said he didn't lead on to anything. Leonard was about to keep talking when Jim questioned, "Radios still work?"

Leonard had to stop himself from laughing at the innocent question asked so inquisitorially and with slight amazement. "Yeah, those still work. Phone lines might be down for the count but a good radio signal is harder to kill." Okay, enough talking. They needed to go. "Come on, Jim. We gotta go."

Jim shook his head. He was adamant. "No."

Leonard saw red. This stupid, stupid man! "Do you want to die?!"

"Why do you care?!" Jim cried out. "You barely even know me."

"I know you Jim. I may have just met you but you have quickly became the most important fucking thing in my entire life and I'm not going to leave you!" He was yelling so loud his face felt hot. Jim must've decided that he wasn't about to take Leonard's words sitting down because he quickly jumped to his feet for the second time. Leonard took three steps forward until he was toe to toe just inches from Jim's face. "I'm sure as shit not going to lose you. I promised never to leave you alone and I don't plan to."

Sputtering, face also a bright red shade Jim roared back, "I'm going to hold you back! I'm not going to be the reason you all die!"

They were so close their foreheads almost touched. They breathed the same air. Jim's baby blues were crossed as he looked Leonard in the eye.

_Oh, fuck it._

Leonard surged forward capturing Jim's lips in a closed mouth kiss. The kids' lips were soft if not a bit dry from his constant licking. He pressed harder squeezing his eyes shut. Jim stood frozen for a few seconds longer before he just about melted into Leonard's lips opening his mouth to the other mans' prodding tongue and sighing when Leonard deepened the kiss. Sweat, days old stubble and breath was ignored as Leonard wrapped his arms around Jim's waist and Jim brought his arms up to rest on Leonard's shoulders bringing his head impossibly closer. Lip against lip, tongues dancing across one another, it was the perfect kiss. Jim broke first, slowly coming up for air and looking slightly dazed. His eyes were still red but now also glassy as he looked up at Leonard's taller by an inch frame.

Leonard leaned in close to Jim's ear and whispered. "Here's the thing about losing my family once; I'm never gonna let it happen again."

With one final kiss to Jim's cheek Leonard untangled himself and took a step back. Jim just stood there looking torn.

"Please," Leonard begged. "Come with us." He held out his hand. Jim stared at it for what felt like decades but must have only been a few seconds. His eyes looked to Leonard's face then down at himself. Just when the older man feared the kid would reject, Jim surprised him by reaching out to take his hand. Jim's hand was warm and clammy and just right. Leonard smiled turning to rush down the steps.

"Wait!" Jim called not even going five steps. "Kevin... Get his toys!"

" _Jim_." Leonard practically whined.

"No, there's a to-go bag under his bed with all his things."

"Okay, I'll grab it. Where's yers?"

"I-I don't have one..." The guilt in his eyes made Leonard's heart clench.

"Grab anything you need, I'll be back in a minute."

It took less than a minute to get back, Kevin's packed bag over his shoulder. Jim had a duffle bag out on his bed with a couple shirts and other clothing items tucked inside not even half full. Leonard held back his growl. They needed to go! The Runners would be on them soon and if they thought a little wood and a smart locking system would keep those hungry Dead Ones out they were sorely mistaken. Leonard grabbed the bag from Jim's hand and rushed around the room picking up shirts and jeans and sweats and Jim's right boot that matched the left one he had on. Leonard had hightailed it out of a home before, he knew what needed to be packed and what could stay.

When the bag was full to the brim Leonard zipped it shut and tossed it over his shoulder then grabbed Jim's hand to pull him to the stairs without his crutches. It was fine, he didn't need them now anyways.

It was all a mad dash down the steps and to the back door that went by in a breeze for Leonard but must've been a hard trek for Jim if his heavy breathing was anything to go by. Sulu and Chekov were in the kitchen waiting for Leonard and Jim. Sulu held his hands out for the bags and smiled at Jim.

"A Jeep and a Lexus? Really?"

"And a motorcycle in the back." The kid was quiet. His hands shook again.

"Wow," Chekov dragging out the  _o_  and last  _w_  until the word meshed around his mouth. "You have strange tastes, Jim."

"Move, move,  _move_!" Hendorff yelled coming around the corner and out the door to the garage, Chekov and Sulu followed after with a yell behind Sulu's shoulder. "Three minutes!"

That's when Jim froze.

"I can't." Tears collected in Jim's eyes building and building until they ran down his cheeks. "I can't! I'll just slow you down. I can't go!"

"Oh yes you fucking will. Now come on!" Leonard grabbed Jim's arm clamping his hand over the man's bicep hard and dragged him towards the garage. Leonard would have thrown Jim into the trunk of the Lexus if he had to. Luckily, the kid finally must have managed to get it through his scull that they weren't leaving without him because he hopped into the car without protest. Kevin was already buckled in but the child quickly undid his belt that was too big for him and scrambled into Jim's lap burying his face into the man's neck and crying. Leonard thought he heard something about  _Two Musketeers_  and more sobs from the small boy but that must not have been right - there were  _three_  Musketeers, not two. Leonard closed Jim's door then looked over at the rest of his search party.

Both car trunks were opened bulging with supplies. The motorcycle – which, holy shit it was a nice one, how much money did Jim even have? – was in the corner just as Jim had said with the tarp that had been protecting it from dust on the floor beside it.

"Dr. McCoy," Spock called when they'd all circled up. "You will drive in the Lexus with Mr. Kirk. Mr. Chekov if you will also ride with him and Mr. Scott will be the driver. Miss Uhura, Mr. Hendorff and myself will drive the other vehicle behind Mr. Sulu who will be in charge of the motorcycle."

"It would be my pleasure," Sulu smiled, Hendorff looked like he wanted to argue but kept his mouth shut.

"Mr. Scott, you will go first followed by Mr. Sulu then myself. All motor vehicles are full and should last us our entire journey to camp. Should something happen–"

"Spock," Uhura snapped with hard eyes. Spock turned to look at her before continuing. "Should something go wrong you are ordered to continue to camp, do not assist, do not turn around. With the supplies in either cars we can help support the camp greatly. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few." With that he nodded his head looking each one in the eye before turning and walking towards his vehicle.

Everyone ran into their own cars starting them up to let the engines purr. Leonard slid in next to Jim and Kevin who huddled against each other. Scotty started the car just as Chekov jumped in.

"Yer guy is gonna get wet, laddie." Scotty laughed at Chekov pointing towards Sulu who was putting on his helmet – Jim's helmet – and zipping his jacket –  _Jim's_  jacket – as the garage door opened behind them.

The rain was coming in torrents pounding the ground. Already the end of the driveway was a small stream. Scotty gunned the accelerator as soon as the doors opened far enough and the Lexus jutted backwards hard. It only took a second before they were out in the street and only three seconds more before the others were behind them. Leonard looked over, Jim had his arms around Kevin and was looking out the window at his house. Tears silently made their way down his face. The older man scooted closer and grabbed for Jim's hand.

"Buckle up, darlin'."


	11. The Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for swearing – Jim's pissed and his mouth knows no bounds.

Rain patted the roof and battered the windshield. The wipers went at full blast scraping water left to right and right to left with a swoosh. The road was barely visible through the sheer amount of water falling from the sky.

It had been a while since Jim had been in a car, even before his accident he'd only ever ridden his motorcycle. He'd bought the cars more from having too much money than actual necessity. He didn't particularly enjoy riding in cars. Motion sickness being one of the big motivating factors. On his bike it was different. He could feel the wind ripping at his clothes and worming its way up his helmet as he laid into the accelerator once he broke city limits. He'd used to ride for hours going where to road took him only stopping when the gas meter ran low – which wasn't often. Gas wasn't easy to come by these days so he'd refit his ride to hold more than a regular bike normally would. One of the many tinkers he'd done during his free time. But sometimes the inevitable would happen and he'd run out of gas and so he'd pull over searching for a station that actually still sold gas instead of powering out electricity. He'd fill his baby up, take a trip into the convenience store for some food – jerky, a can of something or another, some type of sweet thing and usually three to five bottles of water – then hop back on and continue his journey to nowhere.

It was freeing in a way that Jim only felt when he rode. He didn't think of the actual driving and maneuvering aspect as he went along but rather he let his mind wonder. It was riding his bike that he decided to go to college. It was racing down the road he had mentally chosen what house he was to buy. It was kicking it up another gear when he finally picked a major. He had a lot of time to think and be free and just do the things that he wanted to do. It was a feeling Jim missed.

Scotty swerved to the side just missing another car that had broken down in the middle of the road. Rain water made the Scotsman have to jerk the car harder to get back into position leading their caravan of cars. Kevin lay on Jim's lap with his head rested against his chest facing Bones. He was blinking slowly as Jim held him tightly. The car ride was tense, silent. And Jim was fine with that as he sat fuming in the back.

 _Fuck this_ , if it could Jim knew steam would be billowing out of his ears. He was so angry.

Fuck these people who thought they needed to save him. Fuck them for thinking he needed saved at all. It had never been his intention to go with them. What could he do? How could he help? Sure, he'd made his home into a fortress of sorts but that's because he'd had too much time on his hands and a want not to  _die_. What could a drop out from Riverside do for a camp of survivors?

Nothing. He was better off hiding in his house.

But still the car moved getting on the freeway a few miles from Jim's home. No matter how hard he stared at the seat in front of him he couldn't get the car to stop. If he could he would open the door and tuck 'n roll out but even he didn't hate himself enough to die such a stupid way. They were going too fast and besides, seeing Jim jump from the freaking car would traumatized Kevin about as much as seeing a shuttle blow up with his father in it had done to him. As angry as he was he didn't want to hurt the kid. Nothing was the little boy's fault and so he shouldn't be punished like that.

Jim didn't want to start another argument, he really didn't. But when his mouth opened and started to speak he didn't really care about stopping. "Tell me Leonard, have you ever heard of the term  _no_? As in  _no_ , stop don't do it.  _No_ , I don't want to anymore.  _No_ , leave me the fuck here.  _No_ , I don't want to go with  _you_?"

Bones, who until this point had been sitting back in his seat probably waiting for the other shoe to drop looked over at Jim. Up front the Scotty hunched over the wheel to see through the dense rain and Chekov kept his eyes glued to the paper map in his hands, they both stiffened at Jim's words.

Bones sighed looking tired. "Jim, don't start this now–"

"Why not? Seems like a good time." He smirked bitterly. "This is great, right? Four guys and a baby. Sounds like the start to a movie. We could call it–"

" _Jim_." Bones sounded exasperated.

Jim knew that maybe he should stop. Maybe he should give it a rest and just go with it. But that voice in his head that spoke was so small, so insignificant compared to his anger so he mentally shrugged.

Ah well, the world fucks you and you fuck it right back.

"No, I'm actually glad you got me out of my nice secure house," his voice was steadily rising in the small car. There wasn't even a radio for him to compete with. "This is great because you all know that I obviously can't take care of myself or Kevin, that's why you broke into my house. Stole my stuff and forced me into the car right? 'Cause poor defenseless Jimmy couldn't take care of himself."

 _Little Jimmy gets scared, doesn't he? He needs someone taking care of him because he's too stupid to know what's right and what's wrong. Ahh, is Jimmy gonna cry now? Is he?_  Jim could hear Frank's voice so loud in his head that he actually had to shake it to stop the constant repeat. He almost was too inside his own head to realize Bones' face had turned red. He actually didn't expect the man to blow up at him but he did and Jim tried to hold back his jump.

"What did you want me to do, huh? Leave you to get eaten?!" Bones was yelling now clearly heated.

After he'd collected himself, forced Frank from his mind and grit his teeth Jim's mind whirled. Jim was a Kirk and Kirks weren't just known for their stupid decisions but also their temper. If he had wanted a fight he surely had one now.

"Yeah, you should've left me to take care of my- _fucking_ -self."

The older man scoffed, "Well sorry, do you want to get out now? Scotty, pull over so Jim can walk home. Let us know how far you get on your own."

"I don't need you taking care of me  _Leonard_ –"

"Well you could've fooled me, kid."

"Don't call me that!" Jim spat feeling Kevin squirm in his arms.

"Well then stop actin' like one!"

"Go get bent."

"Oh," Bones chuckled menacingly. "That's the best you got? Get bent? What are you, fifteen?"

Jim opened his mouth ready for a comeback when Scotty tapped the breaks hard enough that everyone in the car jutted forward. Jim saved Kevin's head from connecting with the soft but firm head rest in front of him.

" _Oi_! Not that I don't enjoy your little lovers spat but can you keep it down? I'm trying ta concentrate! Unless ya want me ta drive into the barrier in which case please keep yelling." The Scotsman's accent was thick was he ranted. Jim fell back against the seat the same time as Bones huffed both equally chastised.

When Jim looked down he noticed the little boy still in his arms. Kevin just sat there silently staring blank faced as if this were all normal and he was used to hearing people yelling over him… Jim stopped. "Shit Kev, I'm sorry buddy." He brought the child closer to him as if doing so could ward off both of their demons. He whispered reassurances and apologies into his ear as he rubbed on his skinny arm. The child slowly relaxed back into Jim's embrace inch by inch. Jim kissed his forehead then his hair rubbing his nose into his soft hair feeling the fighting anger that had fueled him start to deflate little by little. He knew deep down that leaving was the best option – he was just stubborn. Even the Lord probably knew that Jim Kirk was a tough son of a bitch to get along with at the best of times.

"Good god man," Bones finally said after a few minutes of silence. He was quiet when he continued looking out the window but clearly speaking to Jim. "Can't you see that I care about you? I couldn't leave you... I would never have left you there."

Tears shot into Jim's eyes at the tender tone of the older man. The way his voice shook ever so slightly at the end. Jim didn't really know what affection was. He could remember feeling loved and wanted when he was younger before the accident and before his life had fallen away in the most spectacularly horrible way. He could remember the way he used to smile up at his mother and she'd look down with love in her eyes and he would feel warm inside. Was that the feeling he felt now? Was that warmth and security that blossomed through his veins at Bones' soft voice?

Yes. It was.

Bones cared about him and he cared for Bones in return. Jim Kirk needed to learn how not to fuck everything up and maybe he couldn't start with this. Start with Bones.

 _Alright fine_. He was here damnit. Bones and the rest of the crew clearly cared about him. It was time to stop moping around. He was a grown man,  _damnit_. He better start acting like one.

Damn straight.

"Fuck off Bones, the least you could've done was pack some car games or something." He turned to the man letting a small smile break across his face. Bones looked to him with wide eyes that then glinted in mirth as he saw Jim smile for the first time in a while.

And just like that the tension diminished as Scotty laughed. "Aye Len, what were ya thinkin' runnin' out'a the house without some games!"

"Ve have a game in Russia, it is called Eye See." Chekov supplied from the front.

Kevin laughed, "You mean Eye  _Spy_."

" _Nyet_." Chekov turned in his seat to face the small boy. "I am certain it was Eye  _See_. I know the name Kewin, za game was invented in Russia."

"Ya know laddie, not everything was invented in Russia."

" _Vau, ey_! Bite your tongue."

Kevin laughed turning to face the front of the car completely. Jim didn't let the hold on him go wanting him to be belted down in a seatbelt but the child wouldn't get off his lap so Jim relented keeping his hands firmly on the child's hips. Both Kevin and Chekov continued their conversation as Jim watched rain drops race down the window. He felt a small touch on his hand and looked down. Bones had placed his hand on Jim's lightly. He looked over at the man who had the smallest closed mouth smile on his face. It was an apology and the promise of something more. 

Fine. Jim was already in for the whole fucking pound by this point anyways.

Jim flipped his hand catching Bones' and holding on tight. He smiled letting loose a chuckle as he turned back to the front of the car. Just as he felt Kevin tuck in at his side and start to close his eyes he felt something in his gut. A bad feeling bloomed – something wasn't right. He opened his mouth to say something, what exactly he would say he didn't know and he never got the chance.

Through the pouring rain a figure ran in front of the car jumping when Scotty didn't stop and landing on the front windshield with an inhuman, eye watering screech. Its head connected with the window breaking the glass. Chekov screamed, Scotty yelled something as he jerked the wheel. The car rocked on its wheels swerving and sliding with screeching tires and metal grinding against the ground. Eventually the dead creature that had once been a human was knocked off but not before the car slammed into a guard rail facing the opposite direction seeing headlights from Sulu's motorcycle and the other car. All around them figures emerged fast. Jim sucking in a breath, he'd only ever seen these creatures from afar.

"Fuck!" Bones yelled seeing all the Dead Ones that'd just appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "We're surrounded!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My fingers have not been idle in the few days since I last updated. If you would like I have written a few things and posted them on my tumblr. They might suck and they might be trash but hey, they're my trash and I love them dearly!


	12. The Needs of the Few

The car rocked as a creature catapulted itself into the roof denting it with a hollow thud. Kevin scrambled back pressing himself into Jim's arms as Leonard swung his head around wildly looking for any breaches in the car, any way those  _things_  could get in. The rain made it hard to see as it cascaded from the sky. The freeway was starting to flood as the puddles morphed together to form a steady lake under their car. All around them creatures started to appear in all stages of disarray. Some had whole clothing covering their emancipated bodies but most had only tatters, if that. Modesty had no place among the dead, it would seem.

"Scotty!" Leonard yelled in the small space, his heart beating fast. He tried to swallow down his panic, freaking out wouldn't do anyone any good. "We need to get the fuck outta here."

"Aye!  _Keep the heid_  laddie, I'm trying!" The Scotsman snapped with a shaking voice as he tried turning over the engine. He flipped the keys once, twice, the car didn't make a sound. He cursed and tried again and again waiting for the motor to catch and the car to hum. Leonard scooted until he was between the two seats in the middle of the back to see if there was anything he could do. Jim gently shushed Kevin behind him.

"Come on, come on, come on..." Scotty bent down yanking wires from underneath the steering wheel. Leonard could feel his heart in his throat, if he wasn't already sitting he knew his legs would've given out on him. Their only saving grace was that right now it seemed the Dead One's were more interested in the shiny car than the people who inhabited it. They hadn't yet made to break any windows or pry the doors off.

A shine of headlights caught Leonard's attention and he looked up just in time to see Sulu race around them giving the car and the creatures a wide berth on the five lane freeway. Sulu's helmeted head rubbernecked back at them but Leonard knew he couldn't stop – the creatures would be on him in a second. A moment later Jim's jeep that Spock drove sped past headlights shining in the almost dark of the late and dreary evening. Rain splashed from the jeeps tires as it zoomed by.

"Did they just fucking leave us?!" Jim gaped at the passing vehicles in disbelief. Leonard looked back at him. His eyes were large and round, Leonard wished he could wrap his arms around him and block out this horrible world.

"The needs of the many..." Leonard whispered more to himself than Jim and a terrified Kevin. Jim turned his now angry eyes at him sputtering.

"What the  _fuck_  is that supposed to mean?"

The car rocked again. Next to Chekov's window a Dead One slammed its meaty fist on the glass. Chekov leaned as far from the glass as the small space would allow. Scotty yelled something that sounded like gibberish before twisting the car key as hard as Leonard had ever seen. With a putter, a breath and a prayer the car jumped to life."That what I'm talkin' about!"

He stomped on the gas pedal cursing loudly at the car when the tires screeched but the vehicle did not move. He slammed the gear shift into reverse hoping to dislodge whatever their tire was caught on. Leonard sat in the back keeping eyes around the car feeling more useless than he'd ever been. Kevin cried as Jim practically bent over him shoving his small head into his chest and covering the little boy's ears from the screaming of the horrendous creatures outside and the angry Scotsman.

There was nothing Leonard could do as the car lurched backwards with a jerk so hard his neck snapped forward and his unbuckled torso jutted between the seats. He heard a scream the same time a crack roared through the small car. Leonard felt feet and a body shoved into his back. He turned seeing Jim practically throwing his child onto Leonard to get away from the window. Another dead creature was beside Jim beating on his window. He was so close Leonard could see his rotting skin, putrid looking eyes and open mouth with teeth hanging from its gums. The window was cracked, missing pieces near the top right corner. 

Damnit all to hell.

The next few seconds all happened so fast. Headlights flashed through their car a mere moment before Spock drove his jeep into the thickest bunch of Dead Ones hitting them so hard that bodies flew and blood splattered the windshield. Then Spock was off driving down the opposite way of the freeway. Sulu was next charging on Jim's bike with his arm held aloft, gun clutched tightly in his right hand. He aimed and shot taking out a few of the creatures closest to the car including the one who'd cracked Jim's window. On the roof, a Dead One fell after a loud bang from the gun. It fell forwards smearing its guts and black bloody fluids on the hood of Jim's once nice vehicle. Sulu also sped past following where Spock had gone until his brake lights no longer shined in the pouring rain

Scotty threw the car into reverse and it actually  _moved_. With a whoop the Scotsman rammed forward again making the entire car jump as they launched over whatever debris they'd been caught on. Twisting the car around with screeching tires, Scotty stepped on the gas. A Dead One standing in the middle of the road was slammed into the windshield with enough force to splatter. Red meaty bits splashed across the broken glass of the front windshield. The already swooshing wipers whipped blood and gore every which way, smearing it. Scotty gave off a litany of different curse words while Chekov yelled in Russian trying to squint around the red mush. Jim had Kevin practically glued to his chest with the child's eyes squeezed shut. Leonard could hear the man whispering lightly with a shaking voice.

"Keep your eyes closed, Kev. Keep 'em closed buddy, alright, everything's fine. We're gonna be fine. We're almost to our new home, it's okay. We're fine. Two Musketeers, remember? You and me, buddy, I got you. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, ever…" He kept up his whispering to the child even as it went into nonsensical murmurs. Leonard knew if his heart wasn't beating so hard, his nerves so shot, his eyes would've teared up at the intensity of Jim's words and Kevin's broken sobs.

Scotty swerved around another Dead One, the car hydroplaned a few feet before catching concrete and continuing on missing bodies and abandoned cars all the same. The rain had lightened somewhat but there was still enough to wash off the bloody windshield so the Scotsman could see. Off to the sides there was still a dark tint to the water.

"Fuck Scotty," Leonard felt like he was going to throw up. He patted his friend's shoulder as he gripped the wheel with white knuckled fingers. Scotty said nothing but swallowed audibly and nodded. Chekov had to peel himself off the leather seat to sit forward. He leaned until his seatbelt caught then he hung there running his hands through his saggy curls itching his scalp. "I do not vant to do zat again. Ever."

Taking his eyes off the road for a second, Scotty reached over to pat Chekov's back encouragingly. He shook his head, "Me neither boyo, me neither."

A sliver of light glared in the rear view mirror shining in Leonard's eyes enough to make him squint and put his hands up to shield his face. A smile bloomed across his mouth, their cavalry was back.

"Well I'll be damned," Leonard shook his head as Sulu waved from his motorcycle and Spock quickly flashed the jeeps lights. Chekov clapped seeing Sulu behind him while Scotty hit the steering wheel in delight both speaking in their native tongues that Leonard couldn't understand. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph," he mumbled sitting back against his seat feeling a kink start the knot up his back.

"No!" A small voice shrieked from beside him. Leonard turned around while Scotty looked in the rear view mirror and Chekov cocked it body to the side. Kevin was squirming in Jim's arms, face blotchy red while Jim tried to corral him back into his lap. The child fussed and kicked managing a blow to Jim's ribs in the process. "I don't like this anymore!" Kevin cried. Jim tried to get his boy to calm down so he settled on using his knuckles to rub his small chest getting close to his face and ignoring the slight pain in his own stomach.

"So there was a time you did like this?" He said it lightly as if it were a joke. Leonard could see the hard look in Jim's eyes negated his lightened voice. He was tired.

"No!" snot dripped from the little boy's nose. "I want to go  _home_!" Kevin was yelling now, face red in the fledglings of a full out tantrum. Jim licked his lips clearly holding back his own anger. Leonard said nothing as he watched the scene unfold. It reminded him of the few times Joanna hadn't gotten her way. Her face would grow so red, her fly-away hair would fall into her face but she'd be too stubborn to brush it away. She would stomp her foot and cry demanding what she wanted was needed or she would die. Kevin yelled again angrily. "I want to go home  _now_!"

Leonard figure if they weren't stuck in a small car in the middle of a rain storm with broken windows and frayed nerves the little boy would've stomped his foot. Jim sighed sitting back clearly not in the mood for a fit. "We are going home. We're going to our new home."

"I don't want a new home." Kevin crossed his arms. He pouted, "I wanna go to my room. I want my toys."

Jim put a tentative hand on his small back. "I have your toys, buddy. They're in the trunk." He looked to Leonard who stared back. They both knew it wasn't about the toys. It wasn't even about going home. The little boy was so angry because he was just that – a little boy. Scared and without his parents in a new world where even going outside could get him bitten and killed. Clearly Leonard could tell he was mature for his few years he was still just a child. Leonard doubted he really understood what was going on.

Kevin, still pouting, leaned back into Jim's touch. His bottom lip trembled as he fell against Jim's chest, ear pressed to his collarbone looking at Leonard, his eyes cloudy and red with angry tears. Jim bent down to whisper something into Kevin's ear that Leonard could not hear. The child sniffed once then twice before he let his tears fall and nodded his little head. Jim chucked softly and kissed him on the forehead before encircling him in his arms and holding on tight. They were both quiet for a few minutes before Kevin finally calmed down and closed his eyes falling asleep between one heart beat and the next.

"He just gets cranky when he's tired," Jim smiled down at Kevin clearly talking to Leonard.

An odd feeling encased Leonard's chest as he looked at the two beside him. Jim had said before that he wasn't sure about being a dad and taking care of Kevin yet he was so good at it. He was so kind with the small child, so patient. A lesser man wouldn't have even let the child stay with him for as long as he did let alone open his arms to him and hold him while he cried. Leonard knew that Jim had some problems. Some dark skeletons in his closet that reared their stained heads on occasion but he also knew that Jim could take care of not only himself but also the child. It had been hard but the two of them survived in that house, they hadn't been living high by any means but they weren't scrounging either.

Leonard also knew that below everything, below the bravado and bright smiles and too blue eyes, Jim was hiding something. The reasons why he always had food and had been prepared for the world to cave in on itself even before the sickness had started. Jim had shared a little with him but Leonard vowed to get more, learn more, and understand the strange and handsome man. And maybe, Leonard mentally shrugged, maybe he could open up as well. Tell Jim all about the little girl who used to play in his briefcase and walk around in her mother's too big heels only to stumble and be caught by him. Maybe he could tell Jim about how he'd married the woman he'd thought was the love of his life when he was a teenager but then he'd grown older and the honeymoon phase had all but disappeared after the first couple years. They would have divorced had it not been for the Sickness and the need to stay together for survival. Lot of good that had done his little family. Maybe he and Jim could share the tales of their past as they lay together surrounded by blankets and whispering secrets into damp skin. Maybe.

"We have about another hour and a half Len, if you want ta get some rest." Scotty informed from the front. Chekov already had his head bent at a strange angle, eyes closed fast asleep. Leonard nodded scooting closer to Jim and pulling him towards himself to wrap his arm around the younger man's shoulders and help him and the child rest against his front. Jim nuzzled into his chest sprawled out across the bench seat closing his eyes with Kevin on top of him. Leonard let his head lean back on the cold, wet window and counted the lines on the road as they drove.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep the heid – Scottish slang for keep your head

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because not only did I break my ankle but my refrigerator light wont turn on... somehow this happened. If you so choose I have a tumblr. Here's a link speakingofalice.tumblr.com


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